Just kids
by Republic-of-Yolossia
Summary: A detention brings an eccentric but lovable group of teens together, each with their own problems, hopes, dreams and past, with one goal: to bring together a shattered community. Micronation-centric highschool AU, molossia/hutt, kugel/donia, oznz, fem!sufin, aushun, and others
1. We're all in trouble now

**Um, yes, a new story… I know I've already started two others but I want to at least get the first chapter of this up sometime as it's been sitting on my computer unfinished for months now. So, it's a micronation-centric high school au.**

**Now, I should probably add the human names first, so:**

**Oscar- Hutt River (year 11)**

**Donny/Donald- Molossia (year 11)**

**Salvatorio- Seborga (year 11)**

**Charlotte/Charlie- Wy (year 8)**

**Peter- Sealand (year 9)**

**Lars- Ladonia (year 9)**

**Franz- Kugelmugel (year 9)**

**Kuzey- TRNC (year 8) (I know he's not a micronation, but I wanted to add him too because he's an interesting character)**

**So, this story probably won't be updated too frequently at first due to me having other stories to finish and not knowing the full plot but it'll eventually pick up.**

…

Oscar groaned dramatically as he packed his books and folders away, pulling his bulging rucksack onto his shoulder and leaving the classroom behind. It was his first detention, ever, and Oscar mentally cursed himself for spoiling his perfect record. Five years at high school and he ruined it in his last year; what will his brother say? Oh yeah, Jett would probably just pat him on the back, really hard, and laugh, claiming Oscar was becoming as bad as he was at school. _Yeah right_, thought Oscar to himself, he would need to get detention every day for the rest of the year to even come close to beating Jett's phenomenal record. Of course, that had been back in Australia, when Jett had still been a carefree teen. Back before the problems started…

Nevertheless, when he'd enrolled Oscar into this particular high school, the teachers had taken one look at him and decided he was trouble, and that Oscar must be too. It was probably why, when he first arrived at the school as a tiny, terrified year seven that the teachers kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn't get into any trouble, and when his little sister joined last year they gave her the same treatment.

Trotting briskly through whitewashed corridors and noisy staircases, Oscar made his way down to the school hall; it wouldn't be good for him to be late, lest the teachers make him come back the next day. An hour after school on a Thursday was bad enough, being forced to stay late on Friday was just torture. He reached the school hall and entered with as much dignity as he could muster.

The large room contained a wooden stage at one end and flimsy exam desks in the middle. There were two rows of the things, side by side, and, sitting in blue plastic chairs, were a group of little year eights and nines, his sister among them.

'Oh, Charlotte,' he exclaimed, 'what did you do this time?'

'Nothing,' spat his sister, turning around to glare at him, 'and it's Charlie to you, not Charlotte, seriously, no one calls me Charlotte.'

'Turn around Charlotte,' came the shrill voice of the teacher, who was standing in front of the stage holding a register. Oscar jumped slightly, slipping into one of the seats at the back; he had not seen her there. Charlie rolled her eyes and turned to face the front.

As the teacher seemed to be waiting on a few others before starting her detention, Oscar took the opportunity to people watch from his vantage point at the back, taking in the different kids sitting in the front rows. They all appeared to be around the same age as his sister, and all boys, at least he guessed they were, judging by the uniforms.

There were two boys in the back of the group, whispering quietly to each other. From what he could see, they didn't look related; one had sandy blond hair and, when he turned to face the other boy, Oscar noticed he had bushy eyebrows above deep blue eyes; the other boy was ginger, with a different shade of blue eyes and what appeared to be a large scar on his face, though upon closer inspection, he realised it was fake. The second one appeared to be pretty annoyed with the first one, who just smiled cheerily, and Oscar guessed that the first boy blamed his friend for landing them in detention, but you never know…

The next row contained his sister and another boy, well, they wore a boy's uniform, but he had long silvery hair tied in two plaits running down his back. He didn't turn around so Oscar couldn't see his face. Right in the front sat a boy by himself. His hair was dark and when he turned around to talk to his peers, Oscar saw that he had tanned skin and light brown eyes, which never seemed to stray from Charlotte, much to Oscar's irritation.

Just then, another boy poked his head in the door, grinning apologetically.

'Err, sorry miss,' he said, 'I was talking to this lovely girl about some homework due tomorrow and I quite forgot the time.'

'Again, Salvatorio?' the teacher shook her head, 'just sit down.'

'Thank you,' the boy, Salvatorio, slipped in beside Oscar, much to the latter's irritation. He appeared to be a cheerful fellow, with brownish-auburn hair that flopped down, covering the sides of his head, except for a weird little curl sticking out at the side. Bright green eyes gleamed through his fringe as he smiled. Oscar recognised him from some of his classes and they had talked on a few occasions; he wasn't a bad person, just a little odd, and affectionate.

'Well we're waiting on one more,' the teacher told them, 'then we can start.'

Oscar suspected who the last person was and as the door flew open and a figure stomped into the room, huffing and plopping into a seat in front of him, Oscar knew he was right. The seat was filled by Donny Jones: Oscar's classmate from America. They were in the same form, business studies, science and maths classes and Oscar detested the loud, vulgar young man.

'And what's your excuse this time?' demanded the teacher.

'Forgot,' mumbled Donny.

'Not good enough Donald,' the teacher folded her arms, 'unless you want to spend all your days writing lines after school, then you better buck up your ideas, you hear me?'

'Loud and clear,' mumbled Donny, 'yes miss,' he added, louder.

'Good, now you all know what to write,' she spoke to the entire group, 'and you will not be leaving until you have handed in one hundred lines. You may begin.'

A sound of pens, pencils and biros scraping on paper filled the air and Oscar settled down to write his lines: _I must not answer back_. Over and over again, his fountain pen glided across the paper, each line destroying a little more of Oscar's soul.

He heard the hall doors open quietly and looked up, absent-mindedly watching another teacher walk across the room in that weird run-trot-walk that teachers in heels do and whisper urgently to the teacher giving the detention.

'Excuse me class,' she told them, 'I have to go for a few minutes. No one is to talk or get up, understand?' then she left.

The second she left Donny stretched, groaning loudly. Oscar felt his eye twitch in annoyance.

'So what are you fuckers in for then?' he asked, leaning back in his chair, eyeing them all as if sizing them up.

'Forgot my homework,' said the boy in the front, continuing with his lines.

'Didn't do the work set by the teacher,' said the boy with the long hair.

'Damn you little kids are rebellious nowadays,' joked Donny, 'what didn't you do?'

'They told me to paint fruit bowls and I painted a masterpiece instead,' the boy told them, shrugging nonchalantly, 'just because the teacher thought it was inappropriate… though maybe I should've not done a nude painting but still. It was a masterpiece and the teacher knew it!'

'Wow,' Donny raised his eye brows, 'and the rest?'

'Running and yelling in the corridors,' said Charlie.

Oscar sighed dramatically, 'so un-ladylike, honestly Charlotte...'

'Oy!' Charlie glared at him, 'I was late for a lesson and there were people just walking slowly in a massive group so I couldn't get past… so I told them to move out the way… or something to that effect.'

'Damn,' Donny grinned at Charlie before turning to Oscar, 'so what about you, posh boy? Complain about the food? Wore a cape to PE?'

'Actually,' replied Oscar, 'I proved a teacher wrong in history.'

'Wha?'

Oscar sighed, 'they got a date wrong and I tried to correct them but they never believed me. I even googled it on the class computer and I was right but the teacher got offended and told me to stay behind after school.'

Donny laughed thunderously, slapping the little desk and stomping his feet, 'oh my god dude you tried to prove a teacher wrong? Damn you got balls! Who knew?'

'Well,' said Oscar, 'they were sabotaging an entire class' education with incorrect information and I saw it as my duty to step in.'

'I like you,' said Donny, grinning widely.

_Feeling's not mutual_, thought Oscar.

'And what about you?' asked Donny, nodding at Salvatorio.

'Also forgot my homework,' he replied, laughing.

'And you two?' Donny turned to the two boys in the row in front of him.

'Might've mixed some chemicals together that shouldn't have been,' replied the little blond one mischievously.

'_You_ mixed them,' the other boy shot at him, glaring, 'I just happened to be next to you and the teacher blamed me too.'

Donny laughed loudly again, 'damn you blew up the science room?'

'No,' replied the ginger-haired boy, 'we just burnt a little hole in one of the tables. It's barely noticeable'

'Still…'

'And what are you in for, hmm?' Oscar asked Donny, who was about to reply when the teacher returned, causing everyone to hurriedly face their desks and continue working.

…

'Ow… ow… ow…,' Oscar rubbed his hand, pouting slightly.

'I swear if you don't shut up I'm gonna kick you in the nuts,' growled Charlotte, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, head down and sulking.

'But I'm not used to putting such strain on my hand,' whined Oscar.

Charlotte stared at him in disbelief, 'you have your freaking GCSEs this year. How are you going to manage a two hour English exam with actual paragraphs and shit?'

'Well, I'm just not used to detentions, never having been given one before, so sorry for not wanting to become some juvenile delinquent like you and James.'

'If Jett was a teen thug then how come he got a good job, huh?'

'His infectious optimism, brute strength and sense of humour?' suggested Oscar, 'I don't know. You hardly need A-levels to be a zookeeper.'

'He does something that makes him happy,' Charlotte shrugged, 'that's enough for a job.'

'I doubt that,' Oscar shook his head, letting the matter drop.

'Oh, and it was my first detention too, if you must know,' added Charlotte.

'Fine, fine,' Oscar rolled his eyes.

…

'Will you hurry up in there!' called Lars, leaning against the door frame of the newsagents where Peter was buying them a packet of crisps each. He glared at the sign next to him, the one that said 'only two schoolchildren allowed at one time' and meant he couldn't go in and get his own snacks. He wouldn't have minded, except that Peter always bought the wrong things.

'Yeah okay,' Peter called back, picking up two packets and dumping them on the counter along with a small pile of coins. He collected his change and walked outside, tossing one of the packets to Lars.

'I hate Ready-salted,' he grumbled.

'Sorry, I forgot,' Peter glanced at his brother guiltily, 'hey maybe next time there won't be the maximum number of children in the newsagents and you can come in too!'

'Or maybe you could get cheese and onion next time!'

'Okay, okay,' Peter shrugged, digging into his own packet. They walked in silence for the rest of the journey home, tired and busy eating, until they saw a police car outside their home. Exchanging stunned glances, the brothers broke into a sprint, desperate to see what the fuss was about.

Standing in the front garden, in animated conversation with a stern-looking policeman, was their mother, Taika. Their other mother, Astrid, stood beside her, resting a hand on her wife's shoulder, an expression of fear on her usually stern face.

'It's Peter and Lars Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen,' cried Taika, 'please you have to find them they never came back from school.' She was shaking, frantic with worry and even Astrid was struggling to keep calm.

'And how do you spell their surname?'

'O-x-e-n, no, N, s-t-i-e… e… it's an e look just forget the name and find them please! They could be anywhere! Anything could be happening to them!'

'What's wrong?' asked Lars, pushing the front gate open.

'There you are!' Taika pulled her sons into a crushing hug.

'Where have you been?' demanded Astrid.

'At school,' Lars looked at his parents in confusion.

'We had detention,' mumbled Peter.

'For an hour and a half?' Taika shook her head, 'why didn't they phone us to say or something. We had no idea where you were!'

'Sorry mummy,' Lars glanced at his parents apologetically, 'we didn't think you would worry.'

'We'll always worry 'bout ya,' replied Astrid, stroking Peter's hair and squeezing Lars' hand.

'That's all well and good,' interrupted the policeman, 'but I would ask you refrain from wasting our time in future.'

'Wasting time?' Taika stood up to her full height, which was only up to the policeman's shoulder but the woman still carried an intimidating air, 'our children's safety is a waste of time to you? We didn't know where they were!'

'Well now you do,' the policeman turned to leave, 'please make absolutely sure they're missing before calling us next time.'

'Yes, officer,' Taika glared at the man but said nothing else. Instead, she turned and ushered her family inside, 'boys, your Uncle Eduard's come for dinner; he's inside now.'

'Yes!' cried Lars, running inside. The other three followed the boy inside and found him in the sitting room, slouched in a desk chair next to his favourite uncle, who was sat at the computer, laughing at something his nephew had told him.

'Well, you found them, then?' asked Eduard, facing Taika and Astrid, who nodded.

'Yes it appears they were kept behind at school,' Taika sighed and Astrid stroked her hair soothingly.

'Hey, they're fine now,' the woman assured her, 'ye can calm down now. Don't let yerself get too stressed.'

'Yes, thank you dear,' Taika sighed, 'I know…'

'I see,' Eduard pushed his glasses up his nose and turned his attention back to Lars, 'so, shall we continue our lessons?'

'Yes!' replied Lars, sitting up.

'I hope you don't mind my son,' Taika piped up, sitting on a sofa.

'Not at all,' Eduard smiled at his older sister, 'he's my best pupil! The boy's so smart I'll be teaching him how to download films illegally in no time.'

'Cool!'

'Don't you dare,' growled Taika.

'Hey I'm only joking,' Eduard added quickly, 'you have to learn to download music first,' he whispered to Lars, who burst out laughing.

…

'We're home,' called Oscar, letting himself and Charlotte into the house.

'About freaking time!' their older brother called back, wandering into the hall, 'I arrived home before you and had a shower and everything! Seriously, what kept ya?'

'Detention,' said Charlotte simply.

'Both of you?' James scratched his head in confusion.

'Unfortunately,' replied Oscar, briefly closing his eyes.

'Well about time you loosened up!' cried James, giving his little brother a thump on the back, 'hey our Ozzie's finally becoming an adult!'

'It's Oscar, dammit,' hissed Oscar.

'Right, right,' James led his siblings into their sitting/dining room and plopped down on the sofa, 'dinner's in the oven. It's steak and chips, your favourites. I even got that nice coleslaw you like.'

'Celebrating?' asked Charlie, sitting next to him.

'No,' James shrugged, 'I got paid today so wanted to treat ya.'

'How nice, thanks,'

Oscar stood in the doorway nervously, 'umm, I had a… err, large meal today at lunch and still feel pretty full from it so I'll pass.'

Charlie frowned, 'but you hate the school food.'

'Yeah,' added James, 'you told me it wasn't fit for any human being, let alone high school kids.'

'Well, the pizza's okay… I guess,' Oscar looked away, 'and besides, I have homework to do. And revision. And I think I'm beginning to go right off steak. In fact, I was thinking of becoming vegetarian.'

'Vegetarian?' James frowned, 'jeez boy, call yourself Australian?' he shook his head, 'fine, but you're missing out on some quality dinner.'

'I'm sure I am,' replied Oscar, wandering back into the hall. He heard the doorbell ring and frowned; they never got visitors.

'I got it!' he called, opening it to find Salvatorio staring at him pleadingly with a football in his hands.

'Hey, err, my friends and I are playing a five-aside game with some other boys and we're one man down,' the boy began, 'so I was wondering it you want to join in. Please, we need you and you're the only person I know who lives close to the park.'

'How do you even know where I live?' asked Oscar, blinking in disbelief.

'We live near each other,' replied Salvatorio, 'and I sometimes see you and your sister walking home.'

'That's creepy don't do that.'

'Sorry,' Salvatorio grinned apologetically, 'so are you in or what?'

'I don't know how to play football,' scoffed Oscar, shaking his head.

'I'll teach you, it's easy,' Salvatorio's eyes widened and his bottom lip quivered, 'please, please, please!'

Oscar groaned, 'fine, I could do with the exercise.'

…..

**So, what do you all think so far?**

**Now, I have ideas for the characters back stories and problems they will have to face in the story, but no main plot, no, err, backbone, to this story. So does anyone have any ideas for what it could be about? And sorry if the characters seem ooc; this is the first time of me writing them in a modern setting and any ooc behaviour will be explained later.**

**Oh, and I almost forget the human names for the kids' families:**

**Taika- fem!Finland**

**Astrid- fem!Sweden**

**Eduard- Estonia**

**James/Jett- Australia**

**I made Finland and Sweden female in this because, well, I write a lot of Sufin and wanted to put a different twist on the pairing to avoid them staying the same in each fic I do of them.**

**Now this fic will touch on some sensitive issues, such as eating disorders, drinking problems and bullying, so if you're not comfortable with those or find them triggering, do not continue with this story.**

**Please leave a review I really appreciate them.**


	2. Learn not to judge

'Oh come on Oscar,' Salvatorio waved a hand dismissively, 'you weren't that bad!' The two boys were walking home from the park together, tired now and limping slightly. It was early evening and the sun was setting behind the buildings around them. Salvatorio absent-mindedly threw a battered old football in the air, catching it again, whilst Oscar applied a plaster to one of the cuts and bruises on his cheeks and chin.

'The ball hit my face more times than it went in the goal,' grumbled Oscar, walking along beside him, 'why did you make me the goalie anyway?'

'Only position left,' Salvatorio shrugged, 'no one else wanted the spot.'

'I wonder why…'

Salvatorio stopped all of a sudden, looking around at the street they were walking in, 'can you hear something?'

Oscar paused, listening out, 'no, nothing unusual.'

'I hear groaning,' stated Salvatorio, 'from over there I think,' he pointed to an alley a few metres away, 'sounds like someone's in pain.'

'Well now you mention it…' Oscar thought he heard an upset moan coming from the direction Salvatorio gestured.

The two boys crept towards the source of the noise and turned into the alley to find…

'Donald?' Oscar raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. The boy was lying on his back, half conscious and clasping an empty bottle of beer in one hand.

'Poor Donny,' gasped Salvatorio, rushing over to him, 'here, help me-'

'Get him on his side? That's what you're meant to do with drunk people,' offered Oscar, joining Salvatorio and helping him turn Donny onto his side.

'You have family that drinks too?' asked Salvatorio.

'My brother sometimes hosts work parties,' explained Oscar.

'Mine too,' Salvatorio smiled, ''cept we only have a family business.'

'I see,' Oscar glanced down at Donny, 'well, I knew he was a bit wild but this?' he shook his head, 'doesn't Donald know any better?'

'Maybe he's upset about his detention today,' reasoned Sal.

'He has a detention every other day!'

'So maybe he drinks every other day,' Salvatorio looked Oscar in the eye, suddenly serious, 'people have all sorts of problems others don't know about; you can't judge Donny without knowing his story.'

'Okay, fine,' Oscar rolled his eyes, 'so what should we do with him?'

'Well his house isn't too far from here, maybe we could take him home,' suggested Salvatorio.

'You know where he lives?' asked Oscar.

'Yeah we did a history project together a few years back so I stayed over. His brothers are really nice,' Salvatorio lifted Donny up, leaning the boy on his shoulder, 'little help, please.'

'Course,' Oscar took Donny's other arm and the two teens carried their classmate out onto the street and down the road, trying to ignore judging glares from passers by and the smell of alcohol surrounding the unconscious boy. They travelled through lanes bordered by neat little houses and shops until they reached a tiny, somewhat run-down dwelling. It was a terraced house with no front garden and it appeared there'd been attempts to make the place more homely, as shown by the little plant pots full of daisies; green, painted door and window sills; and a plaque on the front door, though that said: '_there's no dog, but I'll bite you myself if you knock before eleven_'.

'My older brothers sold them that,' Salvatorio commented, following Oscar's gaze, 'they did a crafts range as a summer project and sold the products to earn money. I believe my brother Feli was in his brothers' class at school.'

'I see,' Oscar tore his eyes from the plaque and knocked on the door. He heard a few thumps and a shout before the sound of footsteps getting closer and the door was thrown open. Oscar found himself face to face with a young man in his early twenties; the man had dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes behind glasses.

'Hey, can I help ya?' he grinned widely, 'I'm Alfred, by the way.'

'Yeah, um,' Oscar glanced at Salvatorio.

'Remember me, Alfred. I'm Salvatorio, Donny's friend. Your brother's a little ill,' he explained, 'he may have drunk too much and passed out.'

'Oh no,' Alfred's smile faded and he took his little brother, lifting the boy up. Oscar blinked in surprise; the guy was stronger than he looked.

'I'm sure if he lies down for a bit he'll be fine,' reasoned Alfred, turning around and walking into the sitting room, 'I'll just rest him on the sofa.'

Oscar and Salvatorio followed, looking around the place. It was messy, not uncared for, though, just a little cluttered as if it was home to a load of disorganised young people. Donny was lying on the sofa whilst Alfred was perched on the arm, stroking his hair. The irritating pair of sunglasses the kid always wore was resting on the coffee table and his usually immaculate hair was messy and covering his face.

'You know,' Alfred began, in a quieter voice this time, 'Donny doesn't usually do this, I have to emphasise. He must've been upset about something.'

'I'm sure,' Oscar couldn't help but feel Alfred was lying, but didn't dwell on it.

'Aw he's sleeping like a baby,' came a voice from behind them. Oscar and Salvatorio wheeled round to find another Alfred behind them with a jug of water. Oscar glanced back at the man on the sofa.

'There are two of you?' he demanded.

'Yeah, twins,' the Alfred with the jug laughed loudly, 'that fella over there's Mathew.'

'Oh,' Oscar looked between the twins; upon further inspection, he found that they weren't that identical at all. Mathew's hair was slightly longer and curled; he seemed calmer and more mature too.

'Hey Sal,' Alfred turned to the other boy, 'haven't seen you in a while. How ya doin'?'

'Good,'

'Your brothers okay?'

'Both engaged now,' replied Salvatorio.

'Yeah I heard Lovino and your science teacher have a thing, but Feli too?'

Salvatorio nodded, 'yeah he met this German girl who was a regular at the restaurant; I think her name's Monika. They've been going out for about a year and he popped the question a few weeks ago.'

'Wait,' Oscar frowned, 'your brother's engaged to Mr Fernandez Carriedo?'

'Yeah,' Salvatorio wrinkled his nose, 'it's a little embarrassing; like having a parent as a teacher. He keeps acting like I'm his best friend just because we're soon becoming brothers-in-law. Still have to do the same amount of homework as everyone else though…'

'Yeah but ol' F-C means well,' Alfred grinned, 'he was there when Mattie and I went to school, but as a teaching assistant. Has he still got the tank of turtles?'

'Yup,'

'They were so cute! Is he allowed to do practicals again?'

'Nope, only theory stuff. They get another teacher for practical work. What was that all about anyway?'

'Ah, yes, I remember the incident well. It was his first practical or something and he got drunk worrying about screwing up. Not a good combination, wine and dissections, it turns out.'

Oscar grew bored of the conversation and his attention drifted back to Mathew, who was still sitting next to the unconscious Donny. He wandered over to the pair, standing awkwardly next to Mathew.

'So, why do you think he's upset?' he asked, 'I'm pretty sure it has more to it than his detention today; he's spent half his school life writing lines.'

'Well that's just it,' Mathew sighed, 'he got his first report for the year a few weeks back. He's smart, according to them, but has no motivation or dedication to school work. He's constantly failing tests and we keep getting letters home. We try to be supportive but it seems the stress is getting to him. It might help if he had some friends his own age to get him through it all.'

'I see,' Oscar was beginning to see the boy he disliked most in a different light; maybe Donny was just as lonely and messed up as Oscar was.

'We should be off,' stated Salvatorio, 'I'm late for my shift at the restaurant which isn't the best thing to do when your grandpa owns it so… coming, Ozzie?'

'Sure, and don't call me Ozzie, please,' Oscar followed Salvatorio out of the house.

'Hey come again sometime,' Alfred called after them, 'you're nice kids.' They promised they would and began walking down the street.

'So,' Oscar wanted to break the silence, and find out more about Donny, 'I never knew he had brothers. Were Donald's parents at work today?'

'Probably,' Salvatorio shrugged, 'you know, the different time zones would suggest as much.'

'Time zones?'

'Their parents live in the states,' explained Salvatorio, 'well, their mother does. Dad's in Canada now. They had a messy divorce so Alfred moved him and his brothers to the U.K. to get away from it all. The two wouldn't stop fighting, from what I hear, and it was messing them up real bad. Apparently they send the three of them money and letters every now and then but don't visit much.'

'He was raised by brothers too?' asked Oscar incredulously, 'I never realised- I…'

'Oh yeah, you live with your brother and sister, right?' Salvatorio gave a sympathetic smile, 'so how come you do? If you don't mind me asking.'

'Not at all,' Oscar gave a brief, graceful smile, but it quickly faded, 'the three of us used to live in Melbourne, in Australia, but when Charlotte was a baby our mother died. She was ill but no one ever told me what she had. Our dad changed after that; I think he blamed us, but never said, just showed it, constantly. One day, he came home in a unexpectedly good mood and said we were going on holiday. Charlotte was five at the time, so I'd have been nine, and we were all excited and thought we were finally becoming normal and happy again. For the first few days he took us to all the tourist attractions and bought us ice cream and we all thought he was the best. But one night he went home without us while we were asleep in the hotel and we were stuck in London with nowhere to go. Jett looked after us, though, and got a job. He'd just finished his education and built up a career working in the local zoo. He got a transfer when I was eleven and moved us out here.'

'How awful,' gasped Salvatorio.

'I guess,' Oscar shrugged, 'Charlotte doesn't remember it much though, thankfully.' _So we've both been let down and left behind by their parents_, he thought, _and it had been our older brothers who'd picked up the slack_.

'I guess the three of us are not so different,' murmured Salvatorio.

'Oh?' Oscar looked at him curiously.

'My parents died in a car crash when I was little,' Salvatorio told him, 'my brothers and I were raised by our Grandpa ever since. I know it's not the same as what you two went through but he's always busy- you know- with his business and all so it's usually Lovi, Feli and me.'

'I see,' Oscar gave a small smile, 'it still must've been hard. You're a great guy, you know that?'

'So I've been told.'

…

'Hey I'm home,' Oscar walked into the sitting room to find his brother sprawled on the sofa watching telly.

'Ah good,' Jett grinned at him, 'have fun with your friends?'

'Yes, actually, didn't think I would but…' replied Oscar, shrugging, 'good evening?'

'Not bad,' Jett sat up to make room on the sofa for Oscar, 'got a call from my boss to say I'm I the running for employee of the month.'

'Brilliant,' Oscar smiled, 'when will you know for sure?'

'Dunno,' Jett shrugged, 'apparently there are one or two other contenders but I have a pretty good shot.'

'Great,'

'Hey d'ya want me to warm up you dinner for you?' offered Jett, 'must be pretty tired after the football.'

'Nah, I'm good,' Oscar waved a hand dismissively, 'I'm exhausted, to be honest. I think I'll just go to bed.'

'Okay,' Jett stared at his brother uncertainly, but let him go.

…

**Yeah, a new chapter. Well, I've finished my exams until June so have a bit more free time for fics.**

**I'd really appreciate some feedback, if that's okay, I'd just like to know if people like the direction this story's going in and if I'm portraying that characters accurately.**

**Oh, does anyone know any good names for New Zealand? I want to give them a gender-neutral Maori name but don't know any. Could someone help?**

**Oh, and Monika is fem!Germany (well, I've never tried writing itaxfem!ger before).**


	3. Loneliness and silence

'Vatti, I'm bored,' drawled Franz, standing in the doorway to his father's music room, leaning against the door frame, 'entertain me.'

'That's nice,' replied Roderich Edelstein, not even listening.

'Vatti pay attention to me!' whined Franz, wandering into the room to where his father was sat on a piano stool, reading through sheet music and deciding which one to play, which notes would drift through the big empty house the two of them called home.

'Yes, yes,' Roderich was focused entirely on the notes in front of him. It was only when Franz climbed onto the piano he was sat at and stood so he was covering the sheet music that Roderich fully acknowledged his son's presence. The boy stood on the keys, creating a sharp sound and folded his arms.

'Franz!' he cried, 'get down from there at once! You'll break her!'

'Listen to me!' the boy whined, 'I'm bored and want to talk to you! You never talk to me or listen to me!'

'Fine,' Roderich snapped, 'get down and I'll make you dinner. We can talk whilst I do that.'

'Promise?' Franz raised an eyebrow, glaring at his father with an expression of suspicion.

Roderich sighed, 'I promise.'

'Great!' Franz hopped off the piano and ran to the door; he turned around to find Roderich muttering softly and patting the piano like at was a living thing, hands running slowly over the polished wood. He heard him mention his mother's name. Julia.

'You know,' began Franz, staring at his father nervously, 'the piano isn't Mutti. Pretending it is will only hurt you more.'

Roderich flinched, 'I know, son. Now run along.'

'Okay,' Franz dashed into the kitchen and waited impatiently, taking a seat at the kitchen table, resting his chin on his hand and drumming his fingers on the wooden surface.

Roderich hadn't been the same since his wife, Franz's mother, had died five years ago. He avoided most people, more so than he used to, only leaving the house when he had to work. As a food critic, all he had to do was go to a different restaurant or café each week and write up his thoughts and experiences, emailing the article to the magazine he worked for. The rest of his time was spent in the big empty house where they lived, playing music or cooking.

Anything to distract him from the pain.

Franz had long gotten used to spending most of his home-life entertaining himself. That was why he took up painting and other forms of art to express himself. Franz had an entire room just for artwork, seeing as his own room wasn't large enough to house that many paint sets, easels, brushes, sketchbooks, sculptures, stationery and canvases. Roderich bought his son any material item the child wanted, but hardly ever spent any time with him, due to how much Franz looked like his mother. It hurt too much.

But, every now and again, Roderich and Franz spent time together, baking or playing music, and were close, like the father and son they were supposed to be, if only for a few hours. Roderich had even let Franz decorate a few of the rooms in the house, which was why one of the bathrooms had dolphins and ocean waves painted onto the walls, and Roderich's music room was decorated with painted notes, instruments and anything else music-related Franz could think of to put on the wall. Every now and then, if Franz was really lucky or it was a special occasion, they would go out on a family trip together, usually to the park or a gallery. Those, Franz had fondly decided, were his best memories.

'Okay, how about soup?' suggested Roderich, walking in, 'that's just blending vegetables together, right?'

For all his harsh criticism of professional establishments, Roderich Edelstein himself was not the best chef in the world and preferred to make simple dishes whenever he had to cook. He believed in the importance of making things from scratch, however, using the very best ingredients and their kitchen was always full of fresh, organic, expensive food. They never had take-aways or ready meals.

'Soup's fine,' Franz smiled, 'did you like the restaurant you visited today?'

'The steak I tried was tender and beautifully cooked,' began Roderich, 'but the carrots were soggy, the potatoes were undercooked and the gravy made everything just taste even worse. But the service was friendly and helpful so I gave them a three out of five.'

Franz chuckled, 'I see.' They fell into silence as Franz watched Roderich chop vegetables and drop them into a pot of slowly boiling water, 'daddy?'

'Hm?'

'May we do something together this weekend?' Franz tried to make his eyes as large as possible, 'please?'

'I don't see why not, we've been ignoring each other since you started school this year,'

_You mean _you've_ been ignoring _me, thought Franz bitterly.

…

The next morning, Oscar found himself knocking sharply on the Jones' front door. A sleepy Mathew answered, grinned and let the boy in.

'So what's the occasion?' he asked, showing Oscar into the sitting room.

'Well I was thinking, about what you told me concerning Donald, and I want to help him,' Oscar shrugged, 'maybe companionship is what he needs. Besides, I'm pretty lacking in the friends department myself.'

'I see,' Mathew sat down on the sofa, 'well Donny probably won't be up 'til about eight, so you have a while to wait.'

'What?' Oscar stared at Mathew in horror, 'but we have to be at the school library by then! I plan to help him with that business studies project that's due today.'

'Well it's up to you to wake him,' Mathew raised both his hands, 'trust me, I'm not doing it. Donny's gets pretty mad when you wake him up before eight, Al too, but that's not for you to worry about.'

'Fine,' Oscar shrugged and stood up, wandering into the hall.

'First door on the right,' Mathew called after him.

Oscar climbed the stairs and knocked on said door. When he got no reply, he entered quietly, shutting the door behind him.

Donald Jones was a far more agreeable person, Oscar decided, when he was sleeping, like a little child, sprawled across his duvet. His hair flopped over his face, covering his closed eyes, and Oscar made a note to remember that Donny was wearing bunny pyjamas. A small, extremely fluffy dog was curled up at the end of his bed, chest rising slowly.

'Hey sleepy head,' Oscar soothed, gently shaking the boy awake, 'time to get up.'

'Five more minutes Matt,' Donny mumbled.

'Not Matt,' Oscar leaned closer, so that their faces were almost touching, 'it's Oscar!' Donny's eyes opened slowly and he blinked a few times, trying to focus on Oscar. When he became fully aware that he was being observed at close quarters, he let out a yell and jumped up. The little dog leapt up too, barking madly and running out the door.

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM HOW THE HELL DID YOU EVEN GET HERE!'

Oscar burst into laughter, moving to the other side of the room. Donny leapt out of his bed and in a few, swift, motions had his hair spiked up in its usual style and grabbed his sunglasses off the bedside table, shoving them onto his face.

'GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE JUST COMING INTO MY HOUSE LIKE THIS!?'

Oscar leaned against the wall, smiling smugly, 'I'm your new friend, it would appear.'

'No fucking way,' Donny shook his head, 'I'd rather get my teeth kicked in than spend time with you.'

'Feeling's mutual,' Oscar closed his eyes in frustration, wondering if this was really worth keeping the constant loneliness at bay, 'look, your brother's all for it and I just want to help you with homework and revision every now and then. Maybe Salvatorio can join us too. Come on, it's better than being a lonely failure, right?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Donny folded his arms and glared, then sighed, stuffing his hands into his pyjama pockets, 'fine, but why are you in my room, at,' he glanced at his alarm clock, 'SEVEN FUCKING THIRTY? Are you insane? Who's up at seven thirty?'

'Lots of people,' Oscar sniffed, 'we need to get to the library at eight to do our business homework.'

'Shit I forgot that was due for today,' Donny groaned, 'okay, I'll come to your library with you, but only if you get out so I can get dressed.'

'Fine, fine,' Oscar slipped out the door and closed it behind him, leaning against it. He still wasn't sure this was a good idea, but Jett had always taught him that lots of good friends were important for a healthy mind and soul. So that's what he was doing, saving his mind and soul. Donny, despite his harsh demeanour, didn't seem to be a genuinely bad person, just troubled. Like Oscar. However, Oscar couldn't deny the fact that the main reason for befriending the boy he disliked was simply to get to know him more. He found Donald Jones intriguing and wanted to know all about his life, family, interests and personality. What sort of man was he under the hair gel, swearwords and glasses? Why did he act like he'd given up on his future already? Oscar needed to know.

A few moments passed in silence and Oscar sighed. Of course, he should've known Donny wouldn't be that compliant.

'He's fallen asleep again,' he muttered, pushing the door open.

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT YOU WEIRDO I'M TRYING TO GET DRESSED!'

'Sorry! I thought you'd gone back to bed!' Oscar leapt out of the room and slammed the door shut to avoid pillows and random objects that were being hurled in his direction.

'LIKE HELL YOU DID!'

Oscar couldn't help but chuckle to himself; life certainly was going to be a lot louder from now on, no doubt about that.

…

**I think I'm beginning to get a plot for this forming in my head.**

**Please can I have some feedback on the story do far?**


	4. Make a change

'See, wasn't that worth it?' Oscar smiled cheerily whilst Donny just scowled, rubbing his arm. After half an hour of struggling through mind-numbingly boring business homework, they were actually feeling pretty pleased with themselves, not the Donny would ever let Oscar know that. The pair were now walking down the school corridor, making their way to the main hall where the weekly assembly was being held for the whole school. All around them were other students of all ages, some chatting in pairs or small groups, others walking alone, almost unnoticed by their peers.

'No, you _punched_ me you son of a bitch!'

'You were making us late,' Oscar shrugged.

'I was getting breakfast, asshat!'

'Ah piss,' scoffed Oscar, 'breakfast is for people who do their homework.'

'Bullshit,' Donny rolled his eyes, 'hey have you ever thought of channelling your aggression into something more productive, like boxing?'

'Have _you_?' Oscar raised a bushy eyebrow, 'maybe now we're friends we can join a club together.'

'We're _not_ friends,' spat Donny, 'I'm only doing this cause, if I didn't, Al and Matt'd never shut up about it.'

'Whatever you say,' Oscar looked ahead and spied Salvatorio's mop of carroty hair in front of them, just visible through the crowd.

'Salvatorio!' he called, cupping his hands around his mouth, 'hey wait up!'

Their classmate turned around and grinned, 'oh hey guys, pretty glad I bumped into you two, wanna get a seat together?' he smiled kindly at Donny. Him and Oscar had decided to not mention the events of last night to Donny, to spare him any distress or humiliation, but that sure as hell didn't mean Sal was gonna act indifferent to his problems. If Donny needed companionship, then Sal was going to make sure he got it.

'Whoopee,' muttered Donny, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets.

'Hmm,' Oscar rubbed his chin, 'it's only the second time anyone's actually requested to be in my company, the other request was also made by you. Nobody really asks me these sort of things.'

'I wonder why,' growled Donny, 'you're annoying as hell and punch like a professional boxer.'

'I thought hitting each other was something friends do,' whined Oscar, 'I've seen it in all the films.'

'_Right_,' Donny shook his head.

'Hey let's get seats at the back!' Salvatorio grabbed the other two by their sleeves and led them into the hall. Sitting down on plastic chairs at the back with the other year elevens, the trio lazily watched the rest of the students take their places, sometimes commenting on them. When Charlotte wandered past, closely followed by some of the boys Oscar recognised from their detention, he considered calling a greeting to her, but decided against it. His friendliness would only be met by embarrassed yelling anyway.

Eventually, everyone was seated and the head teacher walked onto the stage and spoke into a microphone, a monotonous drone drifting through the hall, sending most of the students to sleep. He gave all the usual weekly messages and Oscar began to switch off, only paying the slightest bit of attention when the head stated that there was a special announcement.

'I will now hand over to Mr Fernandez Carriedo and Miss Hedervary,' the head teacher stood aside to allow the science and geography teachers to step up to the microphone.

'Well,' began Mrs Hedervary, 'this year we want to promote charity and community, especially within the school body.'

'Nowadays these qualities are severely lacking both here and in society as a whole,' continued Mr Fernandez Carriedo, 'and we want to do something about that. So that's why we're holding a little competition that'll last the rest of this school year.'

'The theme is 'make a change' and open to every student in the school and sixth form,' added Mrs Hedervary, 'the idea is to do something for charity or the community. You can raise money for a cause, or even launch a campaign to raise awareness for a subject close to your heart. The choice is really up to you.'

'The winner will be decided in June and there will be plenty of amazing prizes up for grabs!'

'Does this mean we have to spend the whole year being harassed by fuck-wits with buckets wanting money, dipshits with crappy 20p cakes and have to pay to wear our own clothes in school?' Donny hissed to Oscar, who nodded.

'Pretty much, yes,'

Donny rolled his eyes, 'I swear if I see one, just one, foldable table full of undercooked salmonella blocks covered in runny icing I'm gonna slap someone.'

'It's an insult to good food!' added Salvatorio, a little too loudly.

'I don't care if we're nearly related, Vargas,' called Mr Fernandez Carriedo, 'it's no excuse for disrupting the assembly.'

Sal scowled, ducking behind the chair in front of him to avoid the stares of the entire school. Donny had to stifle a laugh.

…

'So where do you two usually eat?' asked Oscar, 'personally, I'd choose a nice sunny spot on the field, as this may be the last chance to sit there this year without being ankle-deep in mud. We could lie on the grass and soak up the sun too while we're at it.'

'Sounds good,' Salvatorio shrugged.

'Do I have a fucking choice?' Donny trailed after them as the other two crossed the playground to the field.

'Do you have a detention?' Oscar shot back.

'Not this lunch, actually.'

'Then why not enjoy some company for a change?'

'Hey Oz!' Oscar glanced behind him to find Charlie running to catch up with the group.

'Oh, hi Charlotte,' Oscar smiled widely, attempting to pat his little sister's head as she passed, but she dodged his hand.

'Your shoelaces are untied,' she stated, bending down to tie them.

'Err, thanks for spotting. That could've ended badly if I'd stepped on them.'

'No problem,' Charlotte stood up straight, 'now that you're in my debt…'

'I knew it,' muttered Oscar, 'what do you want this time?'

'Well I was thinking about that competition they mentioned in assembly…'

'I'm not running a bake sale with you.'

'I know,' Charlotte had her hands behind her back and she was rocking forwards and backwards, staring at Oscar with wide innocent eyes, 'I want to set up a website.'

'And how does that involve me?'

'Allow me to explain, Oz. It's basically gonna be a website for the students at this school to talk about their problems and get advice,' Charlotte shrugged, 'just somewhere to get help and let it all out, you know? I think it'll be a good idea.'

'About time we had one of those,' exclaimed Salvatorio, 'I think it's a brilliant idea miss.'

'Charlie, call me Charlie,'

'Okay, Charlie's a really cute name and suits you so much!'

'Yes, yes,' interrupted Oscar, 'but how does that involve me?'

'Ah, well I need a board of- say- seven or eight students to answer questions and give advice.'

'And…?'

'I'd like a wide range of students to volunteer for it, you know, people of all ages, races, genders and backgrounds,' explained Charlotte, 'that's where you come in.'

'I see,' Oscar sighed, 'and why should I help you?'

'Because I tied your shoelaces for you,' stated Charlotte, 'and because you're my brother and you have to support me.'

'Fine, it doesn't sound like it'll take up too much time anyway.'

'Great,' Sal tapped Charlie on the shoulder, 'would it be okay if I volunteered too?'

'Of course,' Charlie grinned, 'it's only me and a few members of the art club so far so any help would be grand.'

'Aww anything to help out a little cutie like you,' Sal turned to Donny, 'what about you?'

'Do I have a choice?'

'Hey it's up to you,' Charlie shrugged, 'might be fun, right?'

'Seeing as your effort at school is somewhat… well you know,' added Oscar, 'the teachers might want you to make it up some other way, besides staying after school, so entering this competition might end up being compulsory for you in order to boost your grades and qualifications or something.'

'That is a very good point,' grumbled Donny, 'I'd rather sit on my ass at a laptop than dress as a penguin or some shit and walk around with a large bucket asking for money.'

'Great,' said Charlotte, 'well, if you're all in then we should have our first meet up tomorrow at- say- eleven? We'll all meet at the park, by the fountain.'

'Sounds good,' Salvatorio pushed a lock of hair out of his face, 'shall we go eat then? Care to join us Charlie?'

'Nah, got art club,' Charlotte began walking back towards the school building, 'see ya round!'

'That's a shame,' sighed Sal, 'I was hoping she'd join us.'

'Why?' asked Oscar suspiciously, crossing his arms.

'Well- she seems nice!' reasoned Sal, 'I thought she'd be interesting to talk to.'

'_Right_,' Oscar shook his head.

'So,' Sal scratched the back of his head nervously, 'shall we go eat?' he repeated.

'I'm afraid I can't,' began Oscar, 'I just remembered I… have maths homework to finish so I'll have to spend lunch in the library.'

'We have maths homework?' exclaimed Sal.

'No this is… extra homework the teacher gave me, catch up work from that time I was off sick and missed a lesson or something,' Oscar began backing away, 'sorry, it's really important.' With that, he turned around and began running towards the school building.

'Well, I guess it's just you and me Donn-' Sal turned around to find his other friend missing, 'Donny?' the boy in question was nowhere to be found and Salvatorio sighed, making his way towards the field, 'just me then.'

…

Charlotte put on her headphones and turned the volume up on her iPod, well, Jett's old iPod. After picking the song she wanted, the girl sat down and started on the piece she'd been working on, a painting of a sunset over the ocean, a clash of warm and cold colours, captured by a sweeping brush. The sun was shining in through the large windows, which were open, letting in the smell of fresh grass and trees. Charlotte gave a little stretch and picked up her brush. No sooner had she dipped it into the cup of water provided, then a pair of hands slammed onto the table either side of her. She jumped slightly, looking up to find Donny scowling at her.

'Okay, what's your brother's problem?' he snarled.

'I don't know what you're talking about!'

'You know! Seriously, what the fuck's up with him?'

'Is there a problem here?' two boys a year older than Charlotte stood either side of her protectively, hands on hips and glaring. Donny recognised the pair as two of the boys from the detention yesterday; one had long blond hair whilst the other had short, chopped, red hair.

'Could you leave Charlie alone,' said the red-head.

'I'm just talking with her!' exclaimed Donny.

'It's fine, Lars, Franz,' Charlotte told the two boys.

'If you say so…' the pair cautiously made their way back to their tables, still glaring at Donny.

'Okay,' growled Charlotte, 'what do you want?'

'I just want you to tell me what's up with Oz,' Donny shrugged, 'you know, why he acts like he does and why he insists on calling me Donald when I've told him not to.'

'Ah, see he doesn't like nicknames,' explained Charlotte, 'he thinks they're stupid and he prefers calling people by the names they're given. Plus he hates his own nicknames, so thinks all variations of someone's name are bad. Oh, and he hates it when people call me Charlie cause he thinks it's unladylike to go by a male name, not that I care too much. It's just how he is.'

'That's fucking stupid,' snorted Donny.

'It is,' agreed Charlotte, 'oh, I should also explain he hasn't had a very good experience at school over the years. People used to take the piss out of him a lot cause he acts and speaks differently to what they consider normal. That's why he's so lonely, because no one talks to him without insulting him. He's also a bit of a perfectionist. He likes to be the 'good' kid and not cause too much trouble for anyone. Especially our brother, Jett, cause he raised us. Oscar just wants to make it easier for him. He keeps bugging you because he cares, in his own funny way, about your future because, once again, he can't really see things from your point of view. Bear with him; he's only trying to help you.'

'I see,' Donny sighed, 'I guess it wouldn't be a bad thing, having him around. He sounds like he's been through shit; guess I should cut him some slack. Cheers, Char, I appreciate the help.'

'No problem,' Charlotte shrugged, 'just don't hurt my brother.'

…

'Hey, Donald,' Oscar jogged along the corridor to catch up with the other boy. Around him, other students were making their way to the front gate. It was the end of the school day and time for everyone to begin the tiring walk home, except for a few people at after-school clubs or detentions.

'Oh, sup Oz-Oscar,' Donny gave a strained smile.

'Want to walk home with Charlotte and me?' Oscar nervously fixed his hair, smiling hopefully.

'Nah, sorry mate, have to stay behind cause I didn't do my media studies homework,' Donny shrugged, 'maybe Monday.'

'Fair enough,' said Oscar, 'oh, and don't forget tomorrow, okay? It'd be a shame if anyone let Charlotte down. She isn't usually so persistent and motivated when it comes to anything that doesn't involve painting.'

'Hey don't worry man, I'm not gonna forget,' Donny assured him, 'just please, for the love of god, don't turn up at my house at seven thirty in the morning, or any time.'

'Got it,' Oscar began walking away.

…

'Look, are you sure you're okay?' Peter looked at his brother in concern. Lars just nodded, holding his stomach, dried tears on his face.

'Are you sure you don't want someone to check it?' persisted Peter, 'that kid hit you pretty hard. You might need to see a doctor.'

'M'fine,' growled Lars, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to hold back more tears. They were walking along the little lane where they lived, their house now in sight, 'it's not as bad as it seems.'

'Don't look that way,' Peter frowned, 'just tell a teacher. They take this stuff seriously.'

'No they don't,' Lars' voice was barely above a whisper, 'if I tell them people have been hitting me and I tell them who done it, what are they actually going to do about it? Give some silly little punishment. Do they really think a detention and writing an apology note's really gonna stop them? They'll just do a load worse cause I told on them.'

'Fine, no teachers,' agreed Peter, 'but our mummies would take it seriously. Mama Taika gets really angry when people mess with us or Mama Astrid.'

'No, you can't tell anyone!' cried Lars, 'they won't be able to help and it'll make things worse!'

'We have to! They'll know what to-'

'I told you we're not telling them!' Lars grabbed Peter's collar, lifting him up and shaking with anger, 'and if you say anything to anyone I'll…' he stopped suddenly, letting go and stepping backwards, 'sorry, Pete, I just… please don't say anything.'

'If you insist,' Peter dusted himself down, 'but you're making a mistake.'

'No,' Lars began walking ahead.

'You can always talk to me, you know' Peter jogged to catch up with his brother, 'I'm here for you bro.'

'I know,' Lars sighed, 'I… just can't take it. Every day, I get called names and hit by people and I want to hit them back but if I do then I'll be the one getting in trouble.'

'It'll get better bro,' Peter put his hand on Lars' shoulder, 'trust me.'

'Thanks…'

…

'James? Are you home yet?' Oscar kicked his shoes off and wandered into the sitting room. Charlotte went straight upstairs. He found his brother slumped on the sofa, head in his hands and oblivious to the world.

'Hey, what's wrong?' he walked over to Jett and sat next to him.

'Didn't get it,' he mumbled, lifting his head up and looking at Oscar with a miserable expression, 'didn't get flaming employee of the month.'

'That all-I mean, oh no,' Oscar sighed, 'the thing about employee of the month is that you can try again next month, you know. It's not like the opportunity will never arise again.'

'Yeah but they gave it to some idiot from New Zealand who's only been working there a few weeks. It's taken me years to get nominated and they give it so a newbie? It's just not fair. They only got nominated cause they pretend to talk to the animals like Dr Dolittle or some shit.'

'Oh don't be so bitter,' Oscar tutted, 'so you didn't get it. Doesn't stop you from being one of the most dedicated, hard working people I know. You're an amazing zookeeper and a fantastic brother, James, and you don't need an award to prove it.'

Jett smiled warmly, pulling his little brother into a crushing hug, 'ah thanks little man. Really appreciate it.'

'Hey no problem,' Oscar poked Jett in the chest, 'glad to see you smiling again. Hey, how about we go out, all three of us. You know, for a nice family evening. It's Friday so we don't need to worry about getting up early tomorrow.'

'Don't sound like a bad idea,' Jett shrugged, 'where should we go?'

'Pub?' suggested Oscar, 'come on, it'll be fun.'

'Great! But I'm not buying you any drinks,' Jett warned, 'sixteen is too young to be getting shitfaced.'

'Nothing was further from my mind,' replied Oscar, looking at Jett innocently.

'_Right_,' Jett snorted, 'anyway, we could just find a little table in the corner or something and you and Char can have cranberry juice or whatever.'

'And maybe a beer?' suggested Oscar, glancing at Jett hopefully.

'When you start shaving,' Jett lightly slapped his brother's cheek, 'seriously, you're covered in tiny, fuzzy hairs. You're like a baby duck!'

'Quack! Hey it'll grow,' whined Oscar, 'I'm just a late developer!'

'Of course,' Jett ruffled his hair and stood up, 'now lets get all dressed up and knock 'em dead!'

…

**Sorry for the lack of updates, I'm just terrible with words. So, what do you all think now this story has some basic direction and plot?**

**Oh, I should've pointed this out in chapter one, but I kept forgetting, this story's set in England so I'll be using the English school system (which is quite a bit different from the American one, so I hear) if you want me to explain anything or feel a little confused, just say and I'll elaborate for you!**


	5. Just get along

'Look, are you sure you don't want any peanuts or crisps?' asked Jett for what felt like the millionth time, 'I'm only going up to the bar once so you'll have to get them yourself if you're hungry later.'

The three siblings were sitting around a table tucked away in the corner of a small, family-friendly pub a mile or so from their house. It was crowded with people winding down after a long week either by playing darts, watching football on a small telly hanging from the wall or lounging on tables and bar stool drinking and chatting about the past week, politics, sports and all manner of things. The evening light filtered in through the windows, hitting the assortment of drinks and glass screens of the jukebox and fruit machines, causing them to glint.

The trio had dressed up for the occasion, if only to feel nice about themselves. The two boys wore buttoned down shirts (Oscar donned a lilac one whilst Jett wore green) with black trousers and Charlotte was dressed in a little pink summer dress with a white cardigan.

'I don't want anything,' Oscar snapped, 'I meant it the first time I said it!'

'Just checking,' Jett shrugged, then stood up and wandered over to the bar to order drinks and snacks.

Oscar rolled his eyes and looked around. Everyone seemed to be sitting in groups, either with mates, family or partners, and the atmosphere was friendly and warm. He noticed two friends arguing over what song they should select on the jukebox, another pair playing pool, navigating the green table like a couple of stalking sharks, and one man, or woman, sitting alone sipping a glass of amber beer.

_Strange_, thought Oscar, frowning slightly. Everyone here had someone, even him. The person glanced around nervously and sighed, taking another sip. Had they been stood up or did they always come here alone? Oscar felt a pang of sympathy for them and wondered if he should invite them over.

'Here ya go,' Jett set down the three drinks, beer for himself and cranberry juice for the younger two, then tossed a packet of peanuts to Charlotte. He plopped himself on the cushioned sofa they were sat at and opened his own packet of crisps. He offered the packet to Oscar, who turned him down, shrugged, and began eating them himself.

'So, anything good happen this week?' he asked his little brother and sister.

'Not much,' Oscar shrugged.

'Gonna meet up with some friends tomorrow,' replied Charlotte, 'we're going to the park to work on a project together.'

'Ah great,' Jett grinned, 'nice to see you getting out of the house for a bit. So who else is coming?'

'Oscar, some of his mates, a few from art club, and from science club too,' Charlotte's bushy eyebrows knotted together, 'about eight others.'

'You too Oz?' Jett's eyebrows shot up, 'so what's this project thingy?'

Oscar's attention drifted off as Charlotte began to explain about the website. What? He'd heard enough already! His eyes wandered back to the loner in the corner again. They wore a red jumper and played with the sleeves nervously, their hair was light brown and curly whilst their eyes were green. He couldn't tell if they were male or female, but he knew for sure that they were feeling alone.

'Hey, James,' he began.

'Hmm?'

'You see that person there,' he pointed discretely, 'would it be weird of we asked them to sit with us. They seem kinda alone.'

Jett turned around and looked where his brother was pointing, and his face darkened.

'Oh no,' he growled, 'not that little prick.'

'You know him… her… them?' Oscar frowned.

'Yeah, Hunapo over there's the bastard who got employee of the month instead of me,' Jett folded his arms and slumped his shoulders, pouting like a small child.

'Don't you think that's a bit petty,' Oscar raised an eyebrow.

'I don't like them and don't want to talk to them.'

Oscar sighed, 'it's strange though. I mean, sure, you lost, but you're here with your family having a good time and celebrating anyway. They won and they're alone. It's as if silly things like work don't really matter much if we're not alone.'

'Good,' huffed Jett.

'Oh come on,' chided Oscar, elbowing his brother, 'I _know_ you don't mean that and I _know_ you hate seeing people alone.'

Jett didn't reply immediately, 'yes but, I just don't like them. Hunapo's always trying to get on my nerves at work, and they do this shitty act where they pretend to talk to the animals, even when there's no kids around they just sit there whispering to the elephants and creepy shit like that.'

'You talk to spiders like they're your little babies,' Oscar pointed out, 'I've seen you do it. Snakes too.'

'Yeah, so?'

'So we really know you don't mean to be a dick and are just sulking,' Oscar sighed, 'make sure he doesn't follow me, Charlotte.'

'What?' Jett yelped as his twelve year old sister jumped on him and wrapped her arms around him to make sure he couldn't stop Oscar, 'hey get off me! Do as I say for once!'

'Not a chance,' Oscar laughed and leapt up, running over to the corner of the room and slowing down just before he reached Hunapo.

'Um, hey,' Oscar gave a small wave. Hunapo looked up and frowned, shoulders squaring.

'Oh, hello,' they replied, trying to make polite conversation, at least, 'you're not gonna try and hit on me, are you?'

'No, don't worry,' Oscar chuckled.

'Oh, then take a seat, if you like.'

'Actually,' began Oscar, 'my siblings and I would like to invite you to sit with us, if you like. It's just you seemed a bit lonely.'

'I see,' Hunapo gave a small smile, 'I don't see why not.'

'Great,' Oscar grinned, 'hey, apparently you work with my brother.'

'Really?'

'You know a James, by any chance?'

'Don't think I do,' Hunapo frowned, 'either way, thank you for the offer,' they picked up an over the shoulder bag, glass and their coat and followed Oscar over to his table.

'Oh,' Hunapo groaned, 'you mean Jimmy the creepy crawly guy.'

'Siddown and shuddup,' mumbled Jett.

Hunapo took and seat and glanced from Oscar to Jett, 'you two are really related?' they asked, 'sure, I can see the resemblance but… your little brother's so polite and a little sweetie! And the little lady looks pretty too!'

'Thank you,' Oscar beamed, 'oh, I'm Oscar, by the way. And the little lady's Charlotte.'

'Call me Charlie,'

'Nice to meet you Oscar, Charlie,' Hunapo chuckled.

'Oh, congratulations on getting employee of the month,' added Oscar.

'How did you-' Hunapo glanced at Jett, who was sulking, and could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, 'of course. Well, thank you.'

'Um, shall I get the drinks this time?' offered Oscar.

Jett drained the last of his beer and handed the empty glass to his brother, 'sure, traitor,' he hissed. Oscar just laughed, shaking his head.

'Steinlager, please,' said Hunapo, handing their own glass.

'Got it, Charlotte?'

'Nah, I'm good.'

Oscar carried the empty glasses to the bar and plopped himself on the stool, waiting for one of the two bartenders to notice him.

'Ah, how are we today, little doppelganger?' greeted Francis, sliding over and filling up the glasses.

'Not too bad buddy,' Oscar grinned and rattled off the orders.

'Beer? Now now,' chided Francis, 'you're only sixteen.'

'It's not for me and you know it,' Oscar grinned.

'So, who is your brother's little friend?' asked Francis, glancing past Oscar.

'Oh, that' Hunapo,' Oscar glanced behind him, 'one of James' work mates. Apparently they're from New Zealand and doesn't get along too well with him but that's all I know.'

'Boy or Girl? Not that I really mind...'

Oscar laughed, 'got your eye on them? To be honest, I can't really tell.'

'Well if your brother's not interested then what harm could it do me to try?' Francis shrugged.

'Well, James kinda dislikes them a lot, but… ah I dunno. Hunapo seemed a bit nervous when they thought I was hitting on them, so you might scare them if you… well, be you.'

'I'm hurt,' Francis mock gasped, 'but I understand. Making someone uncomfortable would be terrible and I'm not that sort of person,' there was a moment before Francis grinned slyly and leaned forward, 'speaking of which, have you found a nice young man to settle down with yet?'

'What?' Oscar nearly fell off his stool, 'oh come on! I'm still in high school for crissake; what the hell would I know about dating? Besides, I'm not really… well you know… open, about my preferences. So what can I do?'

'Yes it's hard for a young man or women who's different in any way,' Francis sighed, 'perhaps it is best to wait until college or university. You can get away with pretty much anything there.'

'How did you do it?' pressed Oscar, 'how did you tell everyone you were pansexual?'

'Well I didn't tell _everyone_,' Francis considered for a moment, 'I just mentioned it to a few close friends and family, filled in any questions and there you go. Some left, most stayed.'

'That easy?' Oscar's eyebrows shot up.

'Well it was hardly a surprise,' Francis chuckled, 'have you even _seen_ me? So, maybe you could start with you siblings.'

'I dunno,' Oscar shrugged, 'sure, Charlotte probably couldn't give a flying f-… damn, but James?'

'You brother isn't the close-minded redneck alcoholic you believe him to be,' Francis commented.

'I know, he really isn't at all, but… there's always the possibility of it going badly. You never know how people could react. There's a difference between being cool with gay people on telly or at work and actually having your little brother come out.'

Francis leaned closer, 'I'll let you in on a little secret, my fabulous-haired, thick eye-browed friend, your brother once mentioned to me that he himself was also pansexual. He would be an absolute hypocrite to react badly to what you have to say.'

'I don't _have_ to say anything to him,' Oscar frowned, 'it's really not anyone's business, is it?'

'Maybe,' Francis shrugged, 'and yes, maybe the entire world doesn't need to know. But the people you care about, and who care about you? They need to know. If only so they can understand you more.'

'Ah why are you so smart, Bonnefoy?'

'When it comes to all things love related,' replied Francis, 'there is nothing I don't know. Speaking of which, you never answered my first question. Do you have your eye on someone? It doesn't have to be anything serious.'

'Well I've only just got round to making friends,' explained Oscar, 'but if anything happens I'll tell you.'

'I'll hold you to that,' Francis grinned, 'so who is in your little crew?'

'Oy! Bonnefoy!' Arthur, the other bartender, stomped over, 'are you actually going to do your job or do you plan to loaf about hitting on underage boys.'

'He's legal!' Francis cried back, 'and I'm not even hitting on him.'

Oscar burst out laughing, 'oh don't worry Arthur; Francis is helping me with a little problem. Sorry to take your staff away from you.'

'Well do hurry up; there are people waiting to be served,' growled Arthur, walking away.

'And I'm his workmate, not his staff.'

'Apologies.'

'So anyway,' Francis grinned, 'tell me about your new friends.'

'Well there's Salvatorio Vargas and Donald Jones,' answered Oscar, 'names ring any bells?'

'Yes that little family of delinquents live down the street from me!' called Arthur, 'I swear that Alfred Jones only exists to make my life a misery!'

'You know you sound like an old man?' Francis commented.

'Oh bugger off!'

'Vargas, you say?' questioned Francis, turning his attention back to Oscar.

'Yes, you know him?'

'Of course! His grandfather took me in as a teen when…' Francis trailed off and looked away.

'When you parents kicked you out for being different?' Oscar sighed.

'I'm sure it won't be like that with your family!'

'Well… we'll see,' Oscar collected his drinks and said goodbye to Francis. Back at the table, Jett and Hunapo seemed to be arguing, while Charlotte desperately tried to ignore them.

'Look, I'm not _criticizing_ the zoo; I'm just saying a petting area would be a good idea. It'd be nice for kids to get up and close with safe animals like sheep or goats,' Hunapo was saying.

'What a load of shit,' Jett rolled his eyes, 'every zoo's a petting zoo so long as you're not a little wimp.'

'You've got to be kidding me…' Hunapo wrinkled their nose, 'so you're saying I should just go hug a lion?'

'If ya wanna do me a fuckin' favour,' growled Jett.

'Hey I got the drinks!' Oscar butted in, handing them out.

'Where the fuck have you been?' demanded Jett.

'Over there talking to Francis!' Oscar shot back, 'you could see me!'

'Whatever,' Jett took a long gulp of beer and shuddered, 'it's flat!'

'Who cares?' Oscar shrugged.

Hunapo's lips thinned and they shuddered, 'sorry, little fella, 'but this is no way for a good beer to taste.'

'Too fuckin' right!' Jett grinned at Hunapo, 'tastes like piss!'

'How the hell do you even know what piss tastes like?' demanded Oscar.

'Um, Hunapo,' Charlotte piped up, trying to change the subject, 'I hope this doesn't sound rude, but I was wondering: are you a boy or a girl?'

'Oh, that's okay,' Hunapo chuckled, 'I get that question a lot. I'm actually agender.'

'A… gender?'

'No, agender, I see myself as neither male nor female,' explained Hunapo, 'I've never seen myself as either.'

'Ooh, I see,' Charlotte nodded and went back to doodling on a napkin.

'What a load of shit,' mumbled Jett.

'Oh shut up and drink your piss!'

Jett took another sip of flat beer, still glaring at Hunapo. Eventually, he sighed, put his glass down and sat up straight.

'Okay, that was a little ignorant of me,' he began, 'I'm… I'm sorry.'

'Hey it's fine,' Hunapo grinned, 'so, on a scale of one to being castrated by a crocodile, how painful was that apology for you?'

'I'd rather the crocodile,' replied Jett jokingly.

'Hey the pool table's free; why don't you two have a game?' suggested Oscar.

'Bring it!' Hunapo grinned, 'I'll kick your stupid arse!'

'We'll see about that!' Jett leapt up and followed Hunapo to the pool table, put 20p in the slot and chalked the two cues, handing one to Hunapo. The two glared, standing either side of the table as Jett placed the red, yellow and black balls in the triangle and Hunapo placed the white ball at the other end.

'Shall I break first?' they offered.

'Go ahead,' replied Jett, placing the triangle under the table.

'Are ya sure that's a good idea?' asked Charlotte nervously.

'Ah it'll keep them out of our hair for a bit,' Oscar waved a hand airily, 'what's the worse that would happen?'

~One hour later~

'Okay, I'm going to let you off with a warning this time,' Francis warned, 'but if your brother damages my property again he'll be barred. And that goes for all of you!' Oscar and Charlotte were standing outside the pub next to him, whilst Jett and Hunapo were a few metres away. The due were in an argument with Arthur over Jett tearing the green fabric on the pool table with his cue out of anger after quarrelling with Hunapo over whose go it was.

'Understood,' Oscar groaned, 'and I am so, so sorry about this.'

'It's fine,' Francis shrugged, 'just pay for a new pool table and we'll say nothing more.'

'Thank you,'

'YOU'VE MADE A RIGHT PIG'S EAR OF MY POOL TABLE YOU ARSEHOLE, PLONKER BELL ENDS NOW SOD OFF BEFORE I GET THE BOBBIES!

'OY! Don't get shirty with me just because my mate Huna and I caused a bit of trouble in that boozer of yours!' Jett shot back, leaning heavily on Hunapo.

'Oh just get your cack-handed dipshit friend out of here,' Arthur growled at Hunapo, who gave a thumbs up, staggering slightly.

'Pair of fucking eejits,' Arthur mumbled, storming back inside.

'Fuck you!' Hunapo called back, high-fiving Jett.

'Hey you're…' Jett hiccupped, 'pretty fuckin' cool, you know? We should hang out again sometime.'

'That's not a bad idea actually,' Oscar wandered over after saying goodbye to Francis, 'is Sunday good for you?'

'Fine,' Hunapo grinned, 'I don't really have friends here- I'm new to the country, see- so it'll be nice to spend time with other people.'

'How 'bout cricket in the park,' suggested Jett, 'I'm top man at cricket!'

'We'll see,' Hunapo flashed a wicked grin, 'I was undefeated in high school!'

'Yeah well I'm stronger than you!' Jett argued.

'Again, we'll see,' Hunapo handed the almost completely trolleyed Jett over to Oscar and wiped down their coat, 'so, see you Sunday?'

'Til then,' Oscar grinned, 'come on Charlotte, it's past your bed time!'

…

**Hunapo is the human name for New Zealand (thanks to xFallingxCastlexWallsX for suggesting it)**

**Please review it would mean so much to me!**

**Not much else to say…**


	6. Meeting

The next morning, Donny paced up and down in front of a moss-covered old fountain, groaning to himself. Of course he'd be the first one here. No one else had shown up yet and Donny was already bored, even considering just leaving, claiming no one else had bothered to show up. Hell, he could even just say they were all late and too bad. But Oscar would probably see through it; Charlotte definitely would. Donny's lip curled into a snarl when he thought of that infuriating little ponce, who'd just wandered into his life without a care, changing everything. It made his stomach hurt to think about it, then again, his stomach hurt almost always nowadays, and Donny knew it would be unfair to blame Oscar entirely for it, no matter how temping it was.

On the other hand, Oscar genuinely seemed concerned for Donny, almost as much as his brothers were, and the young American hated to admit he found it rather… sweet? Endearing? It seemed that the boy was determined to become a sort of guardian angel. Donny wrinkled his nose at the thought. He didn't need a guardian angel. What did Oscar think he was, some tiny little child who spent his nights wishing on stars for friends? Salvatorio too. Then again, Sal seemed like a pretty friendly guy anyway, like he'd hang out with anyone he liked with or without their permission.

Donny wondered if he just became best friends with two people he hardly knew without him knowing. Did that even happen? Still, made a nice change, having someone to talk to. Not that Sal and Oscar could _ever_ know that. Donny didn't want that pair of clowns thinking he actually _enjoyed_ their company.

He glanced up at the fountain once more. It had stopped spewing out water years ago, after rust and chewing gum clogged up all the pipes and no one'd ever bothered to fix it. Instead, the council had built a shiny new one at the other end of the park…

Hang on, Donny groaned loudly, running his fingers through his hair, _other fountain? Oh for fucks sake!_

He turned around and was about to dash off in the direction of said fountain when he spied a small boy with dark hair peering at him curiously from behind the old fountain.

'The fuck you want?' he growled.

'Uh-um, are you one of Charlotte's friends?' he asked.

'Yeah, so?' Donny knew he should just ignore the kid and get going, seeing as he was late already, but the smug, condescending look on Oscar's face that was sure to come put him off for a few moments longer.

'Well, my friend Peter told me to go check the old fountain to see if anyone showed up there by mistake,' the boy explained, 'you're here for the website thing, right?'

'Uh, sure,' Donny shrugged.

'Oh good, you might want to follow me then,' the boy turned around and began walking along one of the stony paths that snaked through the park.

'I guess,' Donny stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket, 'so what's your name kid?'

'Honda Nobuyuki,' stated the boy.

'Bit of a mouthful,'

'I've heard longer names,' Donny and Nobuyuki lapsed into a slightly uncomfortable silence. Eventually, they reached the new, functioning fountain, surrounded by three more boys. Donny recognised them almost immediately. Well, he remembered them from the detention, and knew two were called Lars and Franz- the little foetuses who'd tried to scare him away at the art club-, but he didn't know the name of the third guy, the little blond with the eyebrows who hung out with Lars.

'Oh there you are!' the little blond chuckled, 'see, Nobu, I told you there'd be at least one idiot in the wrong area.'

'Of course, pretty smart thinking Peter,' Nobu chuckled and sat down next to Peter on the grassy field next to the fountain. Donny sat a few metres away from the other four, fidgeting with his green jacket. It was on old thing that used to belong to his old man, but given to Donny just before he left the country. His father had noticed how Donny had seemed a little jealous of his brother's coats, passed down from their grandfathers, so had handed him the thing, as the three brothers were in the airport waiting for their plane, actually, as something to remember him by. His mother had bought the three of them dream-catchers, for some reason.

'Sorry I'm late!' called a voice from behind them, and Donny turned his upper body around to see Sal running as fast as he could towards them.

'Hey that's fine,' Peter shrugged, 'gotta wait for a few others anyway.'

'Oh that's good,' Sal plopped himself down on the grass and grinned, 'it took ages to convince my granddad to let me go. I usually work at his restaurant at weekends so he was pretty reluctant to lose a member of staff.'

'Dude, doesn't your granddad want you to have a social life or something?' scoffed Donny.

'Honestly? No,' Sal sighed, hugging his knees, 'he worries about my brothers and me a lot since we're, like, the only family he has left.'

'I see,' Donny understood exactly where Sal was coming from. Although Mathew was pretty relaxed about what Donny did, Alfred worried constantly about his little brother. He was always asking questions, nosing about and always had to know exactly where Donny was all the time. He probably checked Donny's internet history too. Donny, whilst finding his brother's concern slightly endearing, hated the lack of privacy. He felt like he could never have secrets, that he was being smothered and no space to breath. It made him sick, and even thinking about it now was giving his stomach pains.

'Did I miss anything?' a young boy, slightly younger than the rest walked calmly towards them. Again, Donny recognised him from their detention; he was the little one at the front who kept staring at Charlotte.

'Nah, you're cool,' replied Lars, not looking up from his phone. Peter, despite making an effort to greet everyone else, decided to ignore the newcomer. Donny raised an eyebrow with interest; did the little brats have a problem or something? Yes, they were all brats as far as he was concerned, except Sal. And Oscar, who was just a douche.

'It's just baba wanted to make snacks for everyone and apparently 'shit takes time' so I had to wait for him.'

'Hey my mum made snacks too,' Peter grinned. Nobu, on the other hand, pulled a face at the mention of it.

'Which mother?' he inquired.

'Mama Taika,' replied Peter.

'I see,' Donny could almost hear the boy groaning internally from where he was sitting.

'So it's just the lady of the moment left then?' asked Sal, changing the conversation.

'Yeah you'd think she'd want to show up to her own goddamn meeting on time,' growled Donny, 'or failing that, fancy hair would drag her here.'

'Hey don't talk to Miss Charlie like that!' whined Sal, 'she probably has a good reason for being late!'

Donny raised an eyebrow, grinning, 'Miss Charlie? Oh, I see. Right.'

'Shut up!' Sal looked around nervously.

'Whatever,' Donny lay back in the grass, resting his head on his arms and staring up at the sky.

'Tickle fight!' cried Sal, reaching for Donny's exposed stomach.

'Don't you fuckin' dare you little shit!' Donny aimed a kick at Sal, who just burst out laughing.

'Hey we're here!' called Charlotte, dragging Oscar behind her and plopping herself down in the grass, 'our brother had a hangover so we had to make him food or he'd spend the whole day crying in bed or something.'

'Hey that sometimes happens to my mum too!' exclaimed Peter, earning a smack on the back of the head from Lars.

'Great…' Charlotte replied, 'now, shall we get down to business then?'

'Good idea,' replied Sal, organising everyone into a circle. Donny, who couldn't be bothered standing up, rolled over and sat between Oscar and Franz. Probably not the best choice, he decided, but it was the shortest distance so required the least amount of energy.

'Okay,' Charlotte pulled out a notebook from her shoulder bag, 'so I have a few ideas already but… maybe it's best if we all introduce ourselves first. Okay, how about we go around the circle and each say our name and… a hobby too!'

Everyone nodded in agreement, but Donny internally groaned. It was just like being at kindergarten or something. Wait, did they even have kindergarten in the UK again?

'I'll start first,' Charlotte gave a small smile, 'I'm Charlotte Cook and I like sketching.' She elbowed Oscar and the boy let out a sigh.

'I'm Oscar Cook and I like… mechanics and gardening?'

Donny suppressed a snort. Since when did Oscar seem like the sort of person to enjoy mechanics? Gardening, sure, but mechanics.

'Hey, it's your turn,' hissed Oscar.

'Oh for fucks… hi I'm Donny Jones and my hobby is music and gardening.' Hey Donald Jones was not too proud to admit he liked gardening!

'My name is Franz Edelstein and I like, no, I love art!' Donny moved a couple of inches further away from the boy.

'We know,' muttered the boy next to him, 'I'm Lars Oxenstierna-Väinämöinen - don't you forget that- and I like blogging and downloading movies.'

'And I'm his brother, Peter Oxenstierna- Väinämöinen and I love video games!'

'Hi beautiful people!' chirped Sal, 'I'm Salvatorio Vargas and I like fine dining and pretty girls.'

'My name is Honda Nobuyuki,' said Nobu quietly, 'and I like zoology.'

'I'm… Kuzey Andreou-Adnan,' Kuzey glanced over at Charlotte, 'and my hobby is… um, reading?'

'Great, now that we're all familiar with each other,' began Charlotte, 'does anyone have any suggestions for this website. I believe Lars and Franz said they were going to design and set up the site itself.'

'That's right,' Lars grinned, pulling a small laptop out of his rucksack, 'got a few designs already.'

'I was thinking back background with blue text,' added Franz, 'it would look more professional that way.'

'Whatever floats your boat,' Charlotte shrugged, 'now how are people going to contact us, and how are we going to reply?'

'I doubt teens would be happy submitting their emails and other personal informations,' Oscar considered, 'and to allow people to ask us anonymously could open up a whole wave of trouble'

'That and it would mean broadcasting their problems publicly,' added Sal, 'and I don't think people would be too happy about that.'

'What about letting people set up their own accounts,' suggested Lars, 'you know, so we can contact them but it'll be separate from their actual email accounts and things.'

'Brilliant!' Charlotte grinned, 'nice thinkin' there.'

'Hey computers are my specialty,' Lars shrugged.

'Hey maybe we could have a few pages with general advice on things,' added Nobu, 'you know, on symptoms for different conditions or what to do if you're being bullied and so on.'

'Maybe a page with links to other websites too!' added Sal.

'All great!' Charlotte scribbled everything down on her notepad, 'so what about a reply system? How should we all answer questions?'

'How about everyone's given the option of who they speak to,' proposed Peter, 'like, you just pick a name or a picture and write to that particular person.'

'Could work…' said Charlotte.

'On the contrary,' began Oscar, 'you have to remember these are people at our school who will be sending messages. If they know who they're talking to we could be opening ourselves to a wide range of abuse.'

'Good point,' Lars shuddered, 'people can be right knob-heads over the internet cause they know they can get away with it.'

'Well what else should we do?' Charlotte glanced around at the group.

'Maybe,' Kuzey spoke up, 'people can submit things in general and, I'm not sure how this works, but Lars could set it up so we all see the message and all have the option to reply and after we've all replied the messages will be sent to them.'

'What if we don't have any advice or someone else said the same thing you were going to?' demanded Peter.

'Then you don't say anything,' replied Kuzey, 'you could just- I don't know- approve it and move on to the next submission.'

'That's a really good idea, sorry Peter,' Lars added, glancing at his brother.

'Hmph,' Peter folded his arms and began to sulk.

Sal's stomach rumbled and he chuckled slightly, 'should we stop for a lunch break?' he asked, 'I hope you have snacks.'

'We're making pretty good progress,' agreed Charlotte, 'ah what the hell! Bring on the food!'

'Great! My mum's sandwiches are the best!' cried Peter, pulling a plastic tub out of his rucksack.

'I have a feeling my baba's food is better,' Kuzey shot back.

'Hey we can have both!' exclaimed Sal, 'so what's in those sandwiches?'

'Anchovies and onions,' replied Peter.

The circle fell into an awkward silence for a few minutes, broken only when Nobu gave a small cough.

'And what about you?' he asked Kuzey, 'what did your father make?'

'Pizza topped with lamb and sandwiches, containing, fortunately, chicken and vegetables.'

'What do you mean by 'fortunately'?' demanded Peter.

'Nothing,' replied Kuzey innocently, setting the food out on a large, plastic dish in the centre of the circle, 'help yourselves, everyone.'

'Same here,' Peter shoved the tub of sandwiches next to the platter, 'dig in!'

Everyone either took chicken sandwiches or slices of pizza, except Peter and Lars, ever loyal to his brother, and mother's cooking.

'Hey I think mum slipped me a box of salmiakki too,' said Lars, rummaging through his own rucksack.

'Oh god no!' cried Peter, Franz, Charlotte and Nobu at the same time. This wasn't the first time Lars had shared salmiakki out.

'Suit yourself,' Lars placed one of the chewy, salty sweets in his mouth and grinned, 'more for me then.'

'Hey,' Charlotte nudged Oscar, 'try one of Peter's sandwiches with me; I kinda feel bad for the guy.'

'Um, I don't really want-'

Charlotte glared at her brother, 'eat. The fucking. Sandwich.'

'Okay,' Oscar took one from the tub and took a small bite, 'hey these aren't half bad… little slimy… I'm scared to see the fat content on them though.'

'It's a sandwich!' hissed Charlotte, 'not a freakin' cake or something.' She also took one from the pile and shoved the whole thing into her mouth, still glaring at Oscar. Upon noticing Kuzey's down heartened expression, Charlotte sighed and picked up a sandwich from both piles, taking alternate bites.

'Happy now?' she growled at them.

'Perfectly,' Kuzey gave a small smile.

'Sure,' Peter scratched his head for a moment, 'so guys, is there anything else we need to discuss?'

'Well,' Charlotte looked at her notes, 'we need to exchange emails, discuss what issues we might come up against, sort out advertisement… there's a fair bit to go.'

Donny groaned and lay back in the grass; he wasn't too sure how much more he could take of this.

…

Woohoo! Two chapters in one day! Again, I'd love to receive some feedback on this, if you want to, that is.

Oh and Nobuyuki is Niko-Niko (I know, I'm such a bastard for forgetting him).


	7. i said get along you little shits

'Now I cannot stress how important this day is,' said Jett for the third time that morning. He was swinging a wooden cricket bat around, stretching his arms as he walked.

'Oh don't talk shit,' Oscar sighed, 'it's just a little game.'

It was Sunday and the three siblings were walking in the same park, past the same disused fountain, to get to the open field where Hunapo would be waiting, hopefully. Jett and Charlotte wore sleeveless tops and shorts, whilst Oscar was wrapped up in a tracksuit, worse affected by the cold than the other two, a bag containing wickets slung over his shoulder. Charlotte carried the ball, throwing it lazily into the air and catching it again.

'Tis more than just a game, dear brother,' corrected Jett, waggling a finger in Oscar's face, 'this is a matter of honour, of pride, of… of… I won't be beaten by that stupid little sheep!'

'Hunapo's not a stupid little sheep,' Oscar pointed out.

'They're a fuckin sheep,' muttered Jett, 'and they're going down.'

'I blame you for this,' Charlotte hissed at Oscar, who nodded with a miserable expression on his face.

'As do I,'

They fell into silence and walked along the path, eventually coming to the open field and, sure enough, found Hunapo leaning against a tree on the other side. Charlotte grinned and broke into a run.

'Hey Huna!' she called, 'catch!' she threw the ball ahead of her, and Hunapo ran to catch it, succeeding.

'Nice,' Charlotte gave an impressed whistle.

'Thanks,' Hunapo chuckled and lazily threw the ball back, jogging to get to the twelve year old, 'how are you?'

'Not too bad,' Charlotte shrugged, 'and you?'

'So, so,' Hunapo shrugged, 'so what did you use to bribe your brother into tagging along?'

'Nothing,' Charlotte grinned, 'he just likes a competition,'

'And a competition he shall get,' Hunapo smirked at Jett, who'd just caught up with them.

'Yeah, let's cut the crap and get on with things,' Jett waved a hand, taking the sports bag off of Oscar and hammered the wickets into the ground with his bat. 'So, I was thinkin' of making this easier on you, sheep,' he continued, glaring at Hunapo, who just smiled innocently, 'you can have Charlie on your team.'

'Excuse me,' scoffed Oscar, 'are you implying I'm bad at sport?'

'…Yes,' replied Jett, 'look, catch!' he took the ball out of Charlotte's hand and threw it gently to Oscar, who side-stepped out of the way.

'Why would you do that?' Oscar scowled, 'I don't like people throwing things at me and you know I don't like people throwing things at me why did you do it?'

There was a pause before Jett spoke again, then he picked up the ball and grinned, 'seriously Huna, he never catches them. It's fuckin hilarious.'

'_James_,' cried Oscar.

'Okay, okay,' Jett sighed, 'we'll field first, that way all you have to do is run after the ball then,'

'Seems fair,' Hunapo picked up the bat and walked over, hand in hand with Charlotte, to the wickets.

'Maybe I could bowl,' suggested Oscar, 'that doesn't involve catching, right?'

'Well, yeah,' Jett scratched the back of his head, 'but bowling involves precision and aim-'

'You just want to throw stuff at Hunapo,' Oscar interrupted, 'don't you?'

'They're so freakin' smug I just want to wipe that stupid grin off their face!' Jett glared in Hunapo's direction. The object of his loathing seemed oblivious, teaching Charlotte how to hold a cricket bat properly.

'It's cute when you do that thing where you pretend not to like someone,' Oscar commented, grinning.

'Shut up!' Jett aimed a swipe at his brother, who ducked, 'now go over there and get fielding! You could do with a good run.'

'Are you saying I'm out of shape?' Oscar looked genuinely worried for a moment.

'What? No!' Jett groaned, 'everyone needs exercise, okay? You kids just spend all your time on computers or watching telly nowadays!'

'You sound like an old man!' cried Oscar, walking away to find his own space in the field, waiting for the inevitable, fruitless chase after flying balls. He stuffed his hands into his tracksuit and sighed. Of all the ways to spend a Sunday…

There was a crack of wood hitting plastic and something small and red whizzed past, missing his right eye by inches. Oscar growled quietly to himself, turning around to fetch the ball, but was beaten by Jett, who barged past him.

'Yer too slow!' the older brother cried, 'just leave me do it, okay? Might actually have a chance of winning then…' he dived at the ground, catching the cricket ball as it bounced across the field.

'Fine,' Oscar decided he was no longer needed, and wandered over to a tree, sitting in the shade of its trunk. Charlotte soon joined him.

'Huna won't share the bat,' she whined plopping down next to him.

'They're pretty fierce; I wonder if they've even noticed we're not playing any more,' Oscar watched Jett and Hunapo furiously try to outdo each other at sports, running up and down the field, throwing the occasional insult. And by the occasional insult, Oscar meant an almost constant stream of abuse from both sides.

This carried on for a few hours, the pair not tiring even a little bit, and Charlotte eventually dug into her rucksack for a little snack in the form of crisps. She didn't even bother offering one to Oscar; he'd just refuse. She then pulled out a small note pad, scribbling all over it.

'Oh, hey Charlie!' the two sibling turned to find Peter running towards them, closely followed by Lars and two women, 'what are you doing here?' Peter stopped just in front of them, grinning widely.

'Huh? Well the plan was to play cricket with Jett and his new mate,' explained Charlotte, 'but we kinda got pushed to the side.'

'Oh,' Peter glanced at Jett and Hunapo, who were now just hitting each other with pieces of wicket and the bat. They were laughing, so no one was too worried.

'What about you?' inquired Oscar, looking at Peter with interest. By now Lars had caught up with them.

'We were going to play football!' the boy cried, 'apparently Pete and I were getting too restless cooped up inside playing video games or something,' he shrugged, glaring at a tall blonde woman, who gave a small smile.

'It'll do ya good,' she replied, 'fresh air.'

'Hey,' added the other woman, a short, plump lady, 'how about you call your parents over and we can have a four-against-four game.'

'They're not our parents,' Charlotte corrected, 'but sure. Hey Jett, Huna! Get your butts over here now!'

'Huh?' Hunapo, who had Jett in a headlock, glanced over at them, 'hey Jimmy, there are a bunch of strangers talking to your kids.'

'What?' Jett threw Hunapo off of him, looking panickedly at where Charlotte was waving, 'oh, I think they're some mates of theirs from school. Man you really had me worried for a second Huna-' Jett glanced at Hunapo, who was sprawled on the ground, winded, 'Huna?'

'I'm fine,' they wheezed.

'Here,' Jett held out his hand, helping Hunapo up and dusting them down, 'shall we see what all the fuss is about then?'

'Sure,' Hunapo gave a small smile. The pair began to wander towards the tree.

'Ah shit,' muttered Jett, 'I think I recognise the short lady.'

'Where from?' Hunapo raised a bushy eyebrow.

'She's a policewoman,' explained Jett, 'or a volunteer one, anyway, I was at a pub one night and a big fight broke out and when the Bobbies got called she turned up and…' Jett whistled, 'she's scary when she's mad!'

'Your fault for getting in drunken fights,' Hunapo stuck out their tongue.

'Oy! I never!'

'Hey James,' called Oscar, 'these are our friends from school: Peter, Lars and their parents.'

'Oh,' Jett grinned and shook everyone's hand, 'nice to meet you, miss…?'

'Taika, call me Taika,' Taika smiled warmly, 'and this is my wife, Astrid.'

'Pleasure, I'm James, and this is sheep,'

'Hey,' Hunapo elbowed Jett, 'I'm Huna!'

'Fine, fine,' Jett rolled his eyes, 'so what can we help you with?'

'Well I was thinking, since our children are friends and all, we could have a little game of football,' explained Taika, 'it would be nice to get to know my sons' friends, and meet more parents.'

'Well, I'm their brother actually,' clarified Jett, 'but sure, why not?'

'So, girls against boys?' suggested Peter.

'Err…' Hunapo glanced at Jett nervously, and the young man squeezed their hand reassuringly.

'Maybe Europe versus Oceania instead,' he tried, 'that way both teams have two kids and two adults.'

'Fair enough,' Taika pulled an old, battered football out of her sports bag and threw it in the air, only to have it stolen by Astrid.

'C'me on,' she ran off across the field, closely followed by Peter, Charlotte and Lars.

'You little-' Jett was about to run after them, when Hunapo tugged on his arm, 'yeah?'

'Thanks,' Hunapo whispered, 'I really didn't want to explain…'

'Hey it's fine,' Jett shrugged, 'now lets play ball. Bet we're unstoppable together.'

They were. Whenever they stopped arguing amongst themselves for five minutes, that is. But Peter and Lars fought each other almost as much, so the teams were pretty even. The eight played until evening, when the sun was beginning to sink behind the trees. After realising they'd never actually kept score, the two teams decided it had been a draw (except Lars, who insisted 'team Europe' had won) and went their separate ways. Hunapo and Jett walked side by side, carrying somewhat dented cricket equipment and occasionally shoving each other playfully. Charlotte and Oscar trailed behind, grinning at the pair.

They left the park and walked along quiet, residential streets, chatting amongst themselves in the light of the street lamps. Eventually, they came to a t-junction and had to part from Hunapo.

'Today was… fun,' Jett admitted, 'you're alright, sheep.'

'You're not so bad yourself… donkey,' Hunapo smirked.

'Hey!' Jett just let it slide, 'so, see you tomorrow then, at work, I mean.'

'Yeah… see ya,' Hunapo grinned and turned around, walking away.

Jett returned to his siblings, who were exchanging smug glances. He aimed a punch at each of them, but they ducked, giggling.

'Not a word from you two!' he warned, cheeks flushing.

'Of course,' Oscar smirked.

'Oh just shaddup and get moving,' growled Jett, 'don't you little shits have school in the morning?'

…

Hey I updated! So, sorry for the delay and all, it's just I'm having trouble piecing this story together. I have most of the events, and a basic idea of what happens, but not the order. Any feedback would be most appreciated.

Sorry if I got any cricket terminology wrong; it's been ages since I last played.


	8. Fighting in lessons

'Hurry up and get settled,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo ordered as year 11 students filed into the science classroom. Sal, Donny and Oscar slipped into seats near the front; it was the only lesson they all had together, so decided to make the most of it. Just as long as no one brought up the seating plan in front of the teacher…

'You two have done the homework, right?' Sal hissed at the other two, who nodded.

'You actually-' began Oscar.

'It was a tiny worksheet,' growled Donny, 'have some faith in me for fuck's sake.'

'Language, Jones,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo warned, pointing a board pen in their direction. He paused for a moment, frowning, 'that's not your usual place, Cook.'

Oscar gave an apologetic smile, and Mr Fernandez-Carriedo sighed.

'Fine,' he said, 'you can sit there, but if I have to tell you off even once, you're moving, got it?'

'Understood sir,'

'Okay class,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo spoke to the whole class, 'today, we're learning about cells, great, huh?' there was silence throughout the room and the teacher pouted, 'they're fun, I swear! Either way, you need to know all about them for your exams,' he turned around and drew a circle and square on the board, 'now, as you already know, animals and plants have different cells, and you will need to know these differences.' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo began adding details to the two shapes, explaining the features of the two different shapes at the top of his voice. Oscar and Donny couldn't help but tune out. Mr Fernandez-Carriedo, bless him, tried his best to make lessons fun, but thought that simply yelling passionately about what he was teaching did the trick. It had been funny for the first few weeks, but now it was old and stale. Not that the young teacher would let a little thing like students not listening stop him.

'Sir,' began Salvatorio. Mr Fernandez-Carriedo turned around and grinned.

'Yes, Vargas?'

'You said the mitochondria do that respiration thing,' Sal frowned, 'but how do they manage to turn oxygen into carbon dioxide?'

'Oh? It's simple really,' the teacher turned around and began scribbling across the board, 'pay attention to this everyone! The mitochondria has a double-membrane and the internal one is folded like this,' more drawing, 'to allow for a larger surface area.'

Donny and Oscar quickly threw open their notebooks to copy the diagrams down, just in case what the teacher was saying was important.

'See the large surface area allows the chemical reactions to happen fast,' the teacher put the lid on his board pen and grinned, 'of course, you don't have to know that for GCSE level.'

'Oh for fuck's sake!' Donny threw his pen on the desk and Oscar groaned.

'Now why don't you two pay attention and you might know what you need to write down?' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo rolled his eyes, 'oh, and I'm finally allowed to do practical lessons after that… unfortunate incident, so next lesson will be a dissection!'

'Ooh goody,' Oscar gave a small clap, grinning manically.

'You… you like that shit?' Donny raised an eyebrow.

'Of course!'

'Never knew you had it in you…' Donny exchanged worried glances with Sal, who looked a little green.

'I don't like cutting up dead things,' he whispered, 'so I think I'll wait outside that day.'

'From one extreme to the other,' Donny whispered, 'so this is what it's like to be normal.'

'What do any of us know about normal?' Oscar grinned.

…

'Ugly little shit,' Lars shrank away from the classmate who'd hissed that at him, pushing past a group of students and ducking into his classroom. It seemed to just be constant, the jibes, shoves, threats. People had to comment on every aspect of Lars' life, judge him on it, mock it and make him feel awful for it. The other students poked fun at his parents (so what if he had two mums?), his brother (yes, they were adopted and Peter could be quite loud sometimes, who's business was it?) and how close he was with his best friend (Franz was one of the few people who was actually nice to him; it made sense for him to stick close to the boy).

He dumped his bag on his desk and fell into his chair, staring at his knees. He was sick of the constant abuse. Every morning he tried desperately to get his parents to let him stay at home, but Mama Taika could always tell when he was faking a stomach ache, or a cold. She and Mama Astrid kept asking him why he didn't go to school, but he would just mumble something about lessons and homework. Like he could tell them the truth…

'Still not leaving you alone, huh?' Franz sat next to his best friend, giving him a look of concern. Lars shrugged, and glanced at the boy. Franz Edelstein's long silvery hair was tied up in plaits under a red beret, like always, and he'd replaced his school tie with a little bow that was the same colour.

'It's like they Google synonyms for 'gay' every night so they have new material to use against me,' Lars sighed, 'I really hate the shit they talk about my family, and I just wanna beat the living crap out of them, but I'd get in trouble,' he glanced at his friend, and frowned slightly, 'hey Franz?'

'Yeah?'

'You're kinda… eccentric,' Lars picked his words carefully, 'how come you don't really get many comments? Not that I'd ever wish-'

'I used to,' Franz interrupted, 'all the time when I first entered high school. But I guess I just didn't act like they got to me. I'd always have a comeback or I'd just not pay them any attention, so they stopped bothering. Bullies want to get a reaction out of you, right? So it made sense for me to act like the insults just bounced off.'

'I wish that would work for me,' Lars looked down at the desk, lip quivering. He never bothered to act tough around Franz; the kid always saw right through it.

'Hey I'll protect you,' Franz promised, reaching over and squeezing Lars' hand reassuringly.

'Hey Edelstein!' one of their classmates strode in and sneered at the pair, 'is that your boyfriend? Is having a boyfriend 'art' now?'

'Yes,' replied Franz dryly, 'as is what I did with your sister last night.'

The classmate opened their mouth to reply, then shut it again quickly, scowling and stomping over to their desk.

'See,' Franz grinned at Lars, 'bullies are stupid and cowardly; remember all those assemblies on the subject?'

'Sure,' Lars gave a small smile, which disappeared when the rest of the class began filing in.

…

Donny turned the collar of his jacket up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It had taken him ages to convince his teacher that he genuinely need the toilet and now he was enjoying his few minutes of peace and quiet, walking along the edge of the school field, frosty grass crunching under his trainers. The autumn air was crisp, not too biting, but harsh enough to let you know it was there. He glanced at a class of boys, the same age as him, kicking footballs across the field in practice drills.

Shaking his head, Donny picked up the pace, preparing to walk past where most of the class seemed to be gathered. He decided that, if he kept his head down, they would ignore him. He was in no mood to talk to anyone today; he'd had a whole weekend of that. Then he heard cries and shouts coming from pretty near, and Donny glanced around in curiosity.

A large group of boys were kicking footballs at a target, cheering and shouting whenever they made contact. That all seemed pretty normal to Donny, what really make him feel ill was that the target was crying out, covering their face with their hands for protection.

Donald Jones was not the nicest person in the world, far from it, but he was not violent for no reason. As another football collided with the kid's stomach, bringing them to their knees, Donny felt a flash of anger.

'Hey come on,' he began, moving closer to the group, 'don't you think that's enough?' Donny wondered where the teacher was, and why they weren't doing anything.

'Stay out of this,' growled one of the students, 'the little shit was looking at me in the changing room! He deserves everything he gets!'

'I never!' cried the kid on the floor, 'take a look at yourself you fucking potato! You're as ugly as your personality why would I ever look at you like that?'

'What did you say?' the boy grabbed a football out of his friend's hand and kicked it into the boy's shoulder. Donny looked at him closely for the first time, and realised with horror that he recognised the mop of curly, dirty-blond hair.

They were beating up Oscar.

'Okay that's definitely enough,' Donny stepped in between Oscar and his attackers, raising both hands to show he didn't want trouble, 'he said he weren't lookin' at you, dickbags. You've had your fun, now fuckin leave him alone.'

'Oh come on Don,' reasoned the student, the one accusing Oscar, 'it's fun! Here, take a ball and see for yourself!' he held out a football to Donny, but the kid shook his head.

'Oscar's my mate,' he growled, 'now get away from him.' he turned around and hooked his hand under Oscar's elbow, hoisting the boy up. Oscar gave a grateful smile, wiping dirt off his shorts and legs.

'Oh what's wrong?' teased the other boy, 'did we beat up your boyfriend?'

'No, you attacked my friend,' Donny gave his harshest glare, but it had no effect.

'Do you_ loooove_ him?'

Donny decided to ignore that one; no point in rising to the bait…

'Little faggot,' he heard someone mutter. Donny felt a flash of anger and wheeled round, picking up a football abandoned on the ground and drop-kicking it. It connected with the leader's jaw and Donny panicked; he never meant for it to actually hit, no matter how satisfying watching it was. Still, why stop now?

'Don't ever touch my friend again!' he shouted, grabbing the leader by the collar of their football shirt, 'or I will personally fuck you up, you hear?'

'Okay, okay,' the leader's eyes widened and he spat blood on the floor, 'I won't touch your boyfriend again!'

'Donald Jones!' the teacher stormed over to the group and Donny let go of his classmate. Of all the things the teacher could have seen…

'What is the meaning of this?' the teacher, Mr Smith, a large, angry man in a tracksuit, took one look at the student's bloodied face and glowered at Donny, who shrank back; now he was really in trouble.

'Please, sir,' Oscar stepped in front of Donny, 'he was only protecting me!'

'From what?' Mr Smith raised an eyebrow.

'From them,' Oscar waved at his classmates, who tried to look as innocent as possible.

'Sir!' one of them cried, 'we did nothing!'

'They kept kicking the ball at me!'

'Oh man up Cook,' scoffed Mr Smith, 'it's only a game of football!'

'It was deliberate!' Oscar stared at his teacher in disbelief, 'you're having a go at Donald for doing it!'

'Mr Jones is not in my class,' argued Mr Smith, 'now, I'm taking you both to the head teacher's office! Don't answer back, Cook, you've done enough of that!'

Oscar and Donny exchanged anxious glances as the P.E. teacher led them away.

…

'Fighting, in the middle of lessons,' the head teacher sighed, 'really, I expected better from year elevens.' He was an old man, late sixties, and close to retirement. The three were sitting in his office, the two boys slouched on tiny plastic chairs, glancing around nervously.

'Sir,' began Oscar, 'he was only protecting me.'

'From what?' the head teacher scoffed.

'From the other students,' Oscar sighed, 'they were attacking me and Donald stepped in. I'm extremely grateful, to be perfectly honest.'

'There are other ways of resolving conflict,' the head teacher reminded him, 'why didn't you tell a member of staff?'

'Because they wouldn't care,' Oscar raised an eyebrow, 'I tried going to the teachers in my last school and it just made things worse.'

'I am well aware of your problems in your old school, Mr Cook,' the head teacher glared at him, 'and I can honestly say what do you expect from a rough, London school? Out here we're far more understanding, that's why there's no real cases of bullying at our school.'

'Okay,' Donny cut in, 'what the literal fuck, sir? How exactly are you perfectly 'understanding' if you don't even listen to kids being bullied? If someone's beating the shit out of one of your students, then you have to fuckin' step in!'

'Language!' the head teacher turned on Donny, 'you're in enough trouble as it is! I mean, kicking someone in front of a teacher!'

'So it's okay to kick someone when a teacher isn't looking?'

'We have to take violence in this school very seriously, Jones-'

Oscar laughed humourlessly, 'oh yes? Where the hell were you when I was a victim of violence? Where were you when kids called me names and stole my stuff because I looked and dressed different? Where were you when people called my brother a 'brainless layabout' and my sister a 'little slut'?' Oscar was close to tears now, 'where were you when I wanted to die?'

Donny blinked in surprise and glanced at the boy next to him. Oscar's eyes were closed, probably to stop himself from crying, and his hands were balled into fists.

The head teacher just sighed, 'I have stressed on several occasions, Cook, that what went on in London is none of our concern. Now, I will let you both go on this occasion, but I will be having strong words with both your parents this Thursday.'

'I forgot about parents' evening,' whispered Donny, rubbing his nose.

'Um… I don't have…' began Oscar.

'Oh that's right,' there was a hint of amusement in the head teacher's eyes, 'your brother is your carer, right? Same with you Jones?'

Oscar hated the way he said that, and all those little phrases he'd heard adults whisper to each other when they thought he wasn't listening come back, 'problem family', 'broken family'. Yes, James had cared for him and Charlotte since they were little. Yes, parents weren't in the picture any more. So what? James had worked tirelessly to provide for them, refused to listen to every suggestion that Oscar and Charlotte would be better off in care, didn't take benefits, worked long hours at the zoo and other part time jobs he found so they could eat and be clothed. There was nothing 'problem' or 'broken' about that man and he was Oscar's idol. Why were parents so vital for a family? Oscar thought his family were brilliant, if a little loud and eccentric.

'Al and Matt will be there, okay?' Donny glared at his teacher.

'Really? They've failed to turn up-'

'They were busy,' Donny shrugged, 'you know, working. I promise they'll show up Thursday.'

'We'll see,' the head teacher gave the boys one final glare, 'now, you're dismissed.'

Oscar and Donny got up at the same time, and left the office. The moment they were outside, Donny groaned, leaning against the wall and sliding down. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair; when he looked up, Oscar was staring at him anxiously.

'What?' he growled.

Oscar jumped slightly then gave a nervous grin, 'um, I just want to say thank you; I really appreciate what you did and I must apologi-'

'Don't you fuckin' dare be sorry,' Donny spat, 'I've been meaning to sock the dickhead in the jaw ever since I head him talking shit about my brother.'

'Still, I'm the reason you're in trouble…' Oscar sighed, picking a blade of grass out of his hair and adjusting his curls, 'let me make it up to you.'

'How,' Donny raised an eyebrow.

'Well,' began Oscar, 'we could go out sometime, as friends I mean, and I'll pay. Dinner? Shopping? You name it?'

Donny checked his watch, 'ten minutes until school ends; no point in goin' back to class. We have time now…'

'But our bags are still in the classrooms,' protested Oscar.

'We'll get them tomorrow,' Donny shrugged.

'I'm wearing my P.E. shorts!' hissed Oscar, suddenly feeling self conscious, 'how can I go around in public like this?'

'Oh come on,' Donny hauled himself up and grabbed Oscar's arm, 'no one's lookin' at your legs, much, okay so don't worry; Donny's gonna show you how to fucking live!'

'James always warned me about being peer pressured into bunking…' Oscar grimaced.

'We're not bunking!' scoffed Donny, 'just… leaving early. I say we deserve it. Now come on, sir's probably in there phoning our brothers. Do you really wanna go straight home?'

'God no,' Oscar began marching down the corridor, 'come on!'

Donny grinned, following suit.

…

Okay I didn't have time to proof-read it fully, so please be kind! I know some of the language in this is foul and offensive, and I'm sorry if it's triggering, or unpleasant, but I really want to highlight the problem of bullying in schools.

Please review.


	9. Work buddies

'Hey budge up!'

Hunapo glanced over their shoulder to find Jett grinning down at them. He was leaning against the bench they were sitting on, trying to finish their lunch in the short space of time allowed for breaks, and was in no mood for conversation. Still, Hunapo wasn't brought up a rude person, so they, begrudgingly, shuffled over.

'Cheers!' Jett plopped down next to them, holding a small cardboard box full of take-away chicken and chips, 'hey, do you bring in a packed lunch everyday?'

Hunapo glanced at the small, clear lunchbox balanced on their knees and nodded, 'what of it?'

'You know employees get free food from the food stalls,' Jett commented, dipping a chip in ketchup and popping it in his mouth, 'why not take advantage of it?'

'Because I've seen them cook it?' suggested Hunapo, 'and, you know, know what goes into those 'burgers' and 'hot dogs'. Besides, preparing my own food is something I enjoy doing in the morning. It calms me.'

'But…' Jett thought for a moment, 'why would you waste time like that? I can barely get my kids ready before going to work. And what do you expect for free food? Of course it's gonna be shitty. Tastes alright though…'

'Well, I guess I live alone so have more time,' Hunapo shrugged.

'What's living alone like?' asked Jett, voice muffled by a mouthful of chicken.

'Sometimes nice, sometimes not,' Hunapo shrugged, 'like, if I'm reading a good book, or watching TV, I'm happy because I can just read or watch without interruption. I don't have to fit anyone else's schedule, or alter mine for anyone. I don't have to worry about a dress code, and can just act like a slob if I choose to without anyone judging. But then again, sometimes I'm reading and I come to an amazing part of a book, or I see something funny on the telly, and wish I had someone to share that with. Sometimes I miss the sound of laughter and my electricity bill's gone through the roof as I always have the telly on, just for a bit of noise. That's why I agreed to go to the park with you all yesterday, cause it's been ages since I did something with friends.'

'Damn,' Jett raised his eyebrows, 'I was wondering… cause you and me aren't really close, right?'

'Yeah,' Hunapo gave a small chuckle, 'you're okay, I guess, if a little crude and annoying. Your siblings are total sweeties though.'

'I know,' Jett grinned, 'I think Oz and Charlie are the one thing I got right in life.'

'You raised them well,' Hunapo agreed, 'it really shows. How did you, if you don't mind me asking, come to be on your own…?'

'Not at all,' Jett shrugged, 'mum died, dad left. Been looking after the little ones since I left high school.'

'That's awful,' Hunapo stared at their lap awkwardly, 'so… you're basically a mum, dad and brother to them…'

'Yup,' Jett grinned, 'did everything but breastfeed them! I'm glad they turned out alright though…'

'Your efforts have definitely paid off,' Hunapo agreed.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Jett nervously played with his hands and ate, occasionally glancing over at Hunapo.

'So…' he began, wanting to break the silence, 'what'ya reading?'

'Hmm?' Hunapo glanced at the cover of the book in one hand, 'oh, Tides of Time. It's one of my favourites. Seriously, it's great, if a little sad.' Jett patiently listened as Hunapo explained the whole plot of the book, how many times they read it and all of the other books by the same author.

'So that's what you mean when you never get to talk to someone,' he commented when they finally finished speaking.

'Yeah, I guess…'

'Excuse me,' someone tapped Jett on the shoulder and the young man looked up, 'could you show me where the gift shop is?'

'Of course!' Jett smiled warmly and got up, throwing his empty box in the bin next to him, 'it's pretty nearby; just follow me.'

'See ya Jimmy,' Hunapo called.

'Later Huna,'

…

'I'm gonna kill the little shit!' Jett stormed into the storeroom where Hunapo was filling large buckets with feed. He was clutching a mobile phone and seemed absolutely livid. It was three o'clock now, but the pair still had a few hours of work to go.

'Which little shit?' asked Hunapo calmly, picking up a bucket, a massive blue one that required two hands to carry, 'walk with me. That way you can rant while I work.'

'Oz!' Jett followed Hunapo as they wandered out of the room into the sunlight, 'he's in trouble for fighting and answering back to teachers!'

'Sounds serious,' Hunapo grimaced, 'and he seemed so mild tempered…'

'He is; that's the weird thing!' Jett groaned, 'he never gets into fights! And now this… the detention on Thursday was odd enough but fighting? He's not a fighter, in the physical sense anyway,' Jett thought for a moment, 'I dunno, the kid's been bullied since he could walk but I thought that shit was finally over…'

'That's terrible,' Hunapo pulled a face.

'Have you seen him though?' Jett raised an eyebrow, 'Oscar's a walking target for bullies! I just wanna pull the kid out of school and home-school him myself, but I'm not really teacher material…'

'I bet you taught him everything the school couldn't, right?' Hunapo pointed out.

'Hopefully…' Jett cried out in frustration, 'why is this parenting shit so hard? Just when I think everything's smoothing out something like this happens!'

'Being a parent's hard,' Hunapo shrugged, 'that's why kids get abandoned and left being all the time, cause people don't realise how difficult it is…'

'I guess,' Jett sighed, 'but what do I do?'

'Don't yell at him,' Hunapo suggested, 'be there for him, listen to his side of the story. Be a parent! You've managed to be one so far!' Hunapo rolled their eyes. The pair reached the pen that housed the antelope, and Hunapo unlocked the pen, pouring animal feed into the troughs nearby. The antelope were not around, probably on the other side of their field, so Hunapo was perfectly safe. Jett stayed on the other side of the fence, continuing to whine.

'But he was so calm as a child!' the young man continued, 'annoying, but mild mannered and never gave me any trouble. Sure I worried about him, especially when it came to the little shits at his school, but now it's just one big concern. Charlie too. She's thirteen next month! All girls that age are obsessed with one thing: dating and boys.'

'That's two things,' Hunapo corrected, turning up next to him with an empty bucket.

'You know at I mean,' Jett scoffed, waving a hand, 'and all her little mates are boys! I bet they all fancy her. Who wouldn't? Charlie's the best little girl in the world! I wish I could home-school her too, just to keep her away from all the other boys. What if she gets peer-pressured into dressing and acting weird? I don't want her to become obsessed with dieting and looking good!'

'That won't happen,' Hunapo sighed, 'Charlie doesn't seem interested in all that malarkey.'

'Yet,' Jett waggled a finger in Hunapo's face, 'just you wait, I bet all she'll want this Christmas is makeup and dresses.'

'So get her makeup and dresses,' Hunapo rolled their eyes, 'it's her choice. Quite frankly, I've had enough of people telling other people how to dress.'

'Sounds pretty personal,' Jett commented.

'Course,' Hunapo sighed, 'people tell me I should dress like my biological sex, not gender-neutrally. It really pisses me off.'

'Oh,' Jett puffed out his cheeks awkwardly as he tried to think of what to say next, 'why are people so obsessed with knowing what's down there? Surely that's between you and whoever you sleep with.'

'A little crude, but yes, you're right,' Hunapo shrugged, starting to walk in the direction of the storeroom, 'it's none of their business.'

The pair passed a group of small children, most likely on a school trip, gathered around a pen containing koalas. Most of the kids were talking animatedly to each other, though a few just stared in awe.

'Koalas are my absolute favouritest bears!' cried one girl.

'But they're not doing anything!' a little boy exclaimed.

Jett chuckled, kneeling down next to them, 'actually, koalas aren't bears at all. They're marsupials, like kangaroos and opossums.'

'What's a marsupial?' asked the little girl.

'Well,' Jett thought for a moment, 'it means they carry their babies in a little pouch, like a handbag, but on their body.'

'They still don't do anything,' grumbled the little boy, pouting and folding his arms.

'That's because they're mostly nocturnal,' explained Jett, 'which means they sleep in the day.'

'I know what nocturnal means,' the little boy rolled his eyes, 'why is everything in this zoo nocturnal? Why don't zoos open at night time so we can see the animals running about and stuff?'

'Because it'd be night time and you can't see anything then?' suggested Jett, 'Koalas can sleep up to eighteen hours a day, you know.'

'Sounds like my big brother,'

Jett laughed at that.

'You seem to know a lot about the animals,' the teacher commented, wandering over.

'Course I bloody do! I work here!' Jett's eyes widened and he covered his mouth, 'sorry, excuse my language. Stop laughing Huna it was an accident!'

'Would you mind giving a little talk?' asked the teacher, 'if you promise not to swear any more.'

'Course!' Jett stood up and dusted down his shorts, 'here, I'll even get one of the koalas for the kids to pet.'

'I don't think that's…' began Hunapo but Jett had already wandered into the enclosure and came back with a little grey mammal perched on his arm.

'Oh not the demon koala,' groaned Hunapo.

'This little fella here's Bruce, and I'm Jimmy,' Jett told them, prattling off a stream of koala-related trivia whilst 'Bruce' glared at the children, swiping at them with his paws. Although the group of students listened to what Jett had to say, they avoided going anywhere near the koala.

'He named it?' muttered Hunapo, sitting down on a nearby wall to listen to their friend, somewhat impressed by his knowledge.

…

'I thought you said you weren't smart?' demanded Hunapo, as the pair walked home. Jett and Hunapo must've looked a right sight in their matching uniforms, flaked with mud and animal hair, and lingering smell of wild animal. It was late evening now and they were both looking forward to getting home and relaxing.

'Knowing a few animal facts is hardly much to brag about,'

'Still,' Hunapo shrugged, 'I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Jimmy. In fact, I bet you'd be smart enough to be Oscar and Charlie's teacher, if you did home-school them.'

'Yeah right!' Jett wrinkled his nose, 'it's a shame no one wanted to pet Bruce though,' he commented, trying to change the subject, 'he's such a little cutie.'

'You're kidding right?' Hunapo stared at him in disbelief, 'you know the only reason that demon-spawn crawled out of hell was because Beelzebub himself couldn't handle it.'

'Oh fuck off!' Jett scoffed, 'you're just a wimp!'

'Right…' they came to the same t-junction that meant parting ways, and stared at each other awkwardly.

'Well, see ya then,' mumbled Jett.

'Yeah,' Hunapo sighed, 'remember what I said, be a brother for Oscar! He needs you now so be there for him, got it?'

'Loud and clear.'

…

Yay fast updates! Thank you to everyone who reviewed that last chapter!

Oh, and to the guest who gave the TRNC suggestion, you're right. Islamophobia is something that really, really_, really_ needs to be discussed. It's fucking disgusting!

Please leave feedback and suggestions everyone~!


	10. Letting off steam

'Right-ho class,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo flashed a grin at the students gathered around wooden tables, 'genetics!' the science club, a popular club open to all year groups met every Monday after school. Each week was a different topic, unrelated to any curriculum, just to feed kids' thirst for knowledge. Of course, the club was mainly filled with years sevens, eights and nines, and there was rarely a student over fifteen who attended.

'Now, today we're going to be looking at how similar and different we are to our families, and compare that to what we know about genetics,' continued Mr Fernandez-Carriedo, 'can we please get out the photographs I asked you to bring in last week?'

One of the tables contained Charlotte, Peter, Lars, Franz, Nobuyuki and Kuzey, a mess of jumpers, bags and frizzy hair, worn out from a whole day's studying. They each took out photographs of their families, as instructed to bring in during the previous club meeting, and set them on the table. They weren't told why they needed the photographs, and waited impatiently for their teacher to continue.

'Now,' continued Mr Fernandez-Carriedo, 'as you have probably learned at some point, how we look is determined by how our parents look. For example, you probably have the same eye or hair colour as one of your parents, or are a mixture of both. Same with your siblings. Now, before I explain all about DNA and chromosomes and other sciency things, I would like you to discuss in groups the similarities you see between you and your family members.'

There was a collective groan to Charlotte's right, and she turned to find Peter, Lars and Kuzey staring down at their photographs miserably. Although she was joint youngest member with Kuzey, Charlotte almost felt like a leader of the little group, and decided to see what the matter was.

'Is there something wrong?' she asked dumbly.

Lars held up his photograph, 'no biological relations,' he explained. Charlotte narrowed her eyes to see the picture better; it contained Peter, Lars, their mothers and a small dog.

'None at all?'

'Nope,' Lars sighed, letting the photograph fall onto the table, 'Pete and I are adopted, see?'

'Luckily I have a backup plan!' Peter pulled two new photographs out of his pocket, 'I overheard sir talking about this week's activity and thought I should bring in a few pictures of our parents and their siblings.'

'Oh lets see,' Nobuyuki leaned in closer.

'Well there's Mama Taika and her little brother Eduard,' Peter threw a photograph of two children on the table. The group leaned in closer and saw a picture of a young Taika and Eduard, the sister's arms wrapped around her brother.

'Apart from the fact that they're blonde,' began Charlotte, 'they're not very similar in appearance. Even the shade of blonde's different.'

'Yeah, what about Mama Astrid and her brothers?' Peter placed another photo on top of the old one. This one contained three boys and a girl, also all blond.

'Yes there are some similarities here,' Kuzey gave a small smile, 'the two oldest and two youngest, especially, look particularly similar.'

'Yeah everyone says Aleks and Emil look pretty alike; it annoys Emil to no end. It also annoys Mama Astrid when people say she looks like her older brother, Mathias, but she also looks like Aleks a bit…' Peter babbled.

'Oh, and you, Kuzey?' Charlotte turned her attention to her classmate.

'Not related to everyone in the picture,' he passed the photo to her, 'and my family tree's pretty complicated.'

'I think I can handle it,' Charlotte spied Kuzey in the photograph immediately; he was the only child there. A teenage boy, bearing a strong resemblance to him, had his arms wrapped around the child's neck, and the pair were smiling sweetly at the camera. They were surrounded by adults, none of whom seemed even aware that their photo was being taken. There was hair being pulled, faces being pulled, two even looked like they were in a wrestling match. Kuzey's family seemed pretty chaotic…

'Okay the teen is my half-brother, Stelios,' Kuzey explained.

'I can definitely see the resemblance,' Charlotte commented.

'Hair's a bit uneven though,' Peter pointed out, leaning closer to see.

'He likes his hair like that!' snapped Kuzey, who then turned back to Charlotte, 'of, and the tall guy's my Baba, Sadik. Well, he's really my uncle but he's like a Baba to me. But he's not a relative of Stelios, see? The fella with long hair is Stelios' cousin, Heracles, and he's not related to me, thankfully. Do you understand?'

'Pretty much, yeah,' Charlotte frowned, 'who are these other people though?'

'Housemates,' Kuzey shrugged, 'they live with us but aren't related, see? Actually, I think Alin and Andre,' he pointed to the two men in question, 'are brothers, and Alin's in a civil partnership with Tsvetan,' more pointing, 'but doesn't get along with Eli. Oh, and Gupta's a distant cousin of Baba, so they'd be related too…'

'It must be nice having a large family, even if you're not related,'

'You'd think,' Kuzey shrugged, 'it's pretty loud and not much privacy and everyone dislikes each other so they always fight.'

'Real dislike or a sort of I-like-you-deep-down-but-you-annoy-me thing?' asked Charlotte.

'Bit of both,' Kuzey grinned.

'What about you, Nobu?' asked Peter, sliding closer to his friend.

'You've met my family,' Nobuyuki placed a photograph in the middle of the table, 'there's my mother, father and older brother, Kiku.'

'Oh yeah how's Kiku now?' asked Peter, 'still cool as ever?'

'Yes,' replied Nobuyuki through gritted teeth, 'still cool, still smart, still the perfect child.'

'Oh yeah,' Peter grimaced, 'forgot you don't get along much.'

'He's nice,' Nobuyuki admitted, 'but our parents keep going on about how much I have to live up to Kiku's reputation and all. You know he's in university now? Doing a graphic designs degree. Got loads of martial arts awards, grade eight in clarinet, Duke of Edinburgh gold award, basically, anything that can be given out, he's got. I can't compete with that!'

As Peter tried to console his friend, Franz glanced at Kuzey's photograph, 'is that Miss Hedervary?' he asked, gasping in shock and pointing to Eli, the only woman in the photograph.

'Oh, yeah,' Kuzey shrugged.

'Miss Hedervary's my form and geography teacher,' continued Franz, 'she's the best!'

'Is she?' Kuzey raised an eyebrow, 'I don't have her for any lessons. All I know is that she fights with Alin and Baba a lot. But yeah, she's pretty sweet, I guess.'

'She's so kind!' exclaimed Franz.

'Someone got a crush?' Lars smiled smugly at his friend.

'Nope, I just think she'd make a cool Mutti,' Franz shrugged.

'Speaking of Mutti,' Charlotte butted in, 'can we see your photo, Franz?'

'Sure,' Franz pushed a small photograph of two people into the middle of the table, 'here's me and Vatti. It was the most recent one I could find.'

'Oh, where's your-' began Kuzey, but Peter shushed him.

'Died,' Franz's shoulders tensed and he avoided eye contact with everyone, 'few years ago,'

'I'm sorry, I-'

'Didn't know,' Franz smiled at Kuzey, 'it's okay.'

'You have your father's eyes,' Charlotte told him, 'and you both have little moles on your face… same noses too.'

'So are you guys done?' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo turned up behind them.

'Almost,' Charlotte decided to act as a spokesperson, 'just me left.'

'Well maybe we could do your photo together as a class,' suggested the teacher, holding out a hand for her photograph. Tentatively, as if she was giving up a precious item, Charlotte placed the photo in his hand. 'Oh,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo frowned, scrutinising the photograph, it was of three small children sitting on their mother's lap with another figure sitting next to them, arm on the mother's shoulder, 'one of the faces is burnt out.'

'Yeah, that was already like that,' Charlotte glanced around uneasily, 'please, sir, I don't want to talk about it…'

'I understand,' the teacher stood there awkwardly for a few moments, 'do you want me to use someone else-'

'No, that's fine,' Charlotte gave a small smile.

'Oh good,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo bounded over to the teacher's desk and set the photograph on a little projector-like instrument. 'What do you think of my new gadget-thingy, by the way, I put something on this surface here and it projects a picture to my computer, which I can then project onto the board.'

'Fancy!' Lars gave a thumbs up, which the teacher returned.

'Now,' Mr Fernandez-Carriedo turned to the enlarged picture on the board, 'here we have three siblings and their mother, provided by Miss Cook here. May I ask what your brothers are called?' he directed that last question at Charlotte.

'Oscar and James.'

'Ah yes, I remember your middle brother quite well,' the teacher turned back to the board, 'now Charlotte here shares the same hair colour with her brother James, and the same eye colour with her brother Oscar…' Charlotte switched off as her science teacher described the features of her family members. She already knew she had her mother's eyes and father's hair colour. She knew her and Oscar had their mother's curls while Jett styled his hair relentlessly to avoid it going flat, like their father's. She also knew her and Oscar had small, button noses, like their mother, while Jett's nose was larger and looked exactly like his father's, so he wore a plaster over it to cover it up. If he could afford it, Jett would probably wear contact lenses to hide his green eyes too.

In short, James did everything he could to avoid looking like the man he detested.

'I hope you don't mind me asking,' Kuzey began slowly, 'but why is your photo burnt?'

'Not at all,' Charlotte gave a sad smile, 'our dad wasn't very nice to us, and left us in the UK when we were kids without much and this was the only photo of mum we had. Jett looks a lot like dad and probably hated seeing himself in the man, so burnt his face out of the picture. It was also probably so our only photo of mum wasn't ruined by him being in it, and so me and Oscar would forget what he looks like.'

'I see,' Kuzey averted his gaze; their father must've left some pretty bad memories and scars for a half-singed photo to be more pleasant than a complete one.

'Still,' Charlotte shrugged, 'life goes on. Now I wanna hear what sir has to say on DNA.'

…

'I can't believe I'm doing this,' wheezed Oscar for what was probably the tenth time, glancing around and nervously hopping from foot to foot. Donny just rolled his eyes; everyone else was probably leaving school now. He checked his watch. Yup, quarter to four, there would be no one left in school except those in detention and clubs. On the other hand, Oscar was probably still worried about his brother's reaction when he finally gets home. Donny knew he himself was bound to get an earful from Alfred.

'Chill,' Donny stuffed his hands in his pockets, starting to get irritated, 'we're almost at the mall.'

'Over here we call it a shopping centre,' Oscar commented.

'It's a big building where they sell all the cool shit,' Donny threw his hands in the air.

'Thinking of anywhere in particular?' asked Oscar, tugging at his shorts, which were riding up. Oscar hated wearing the things at school, but out in the open it was plain humiliating.

'Dude, your legs are fine, not that I'm staring or nuffin,' he added quickly, 'just stop whining okay?'

'Fine,' Oscar pouted, thinking of a new topic of conversation, 'so, err, what do your brothers do for a living?' he inquired.

'They're in a band,' Donny puffed out his cheeks, 'but not, like, a silly college band or anything. They're a proper band; got instruments and everything. Done a few gigs in bars and clubs.'

'Cool,' Oscar thought the idea was stupid and reckless, especially when they were the ones who were supposed to be earning the income, but didn't comment on it, 'so is that a sort of hobby/future career thing? Do they have other jobs to tide them over until they get a record deal, or however that works?'

'Nope,' Donny grinned, 'they're a full time band. They sometimes even go on tours to nearby towns for the weekend and stuff. Of course, none of them are too good at song-writing, so just do covers of loads of different things, since everyone has a different taste in music. Since mom and dad pay for our rent and stuff, they can afford to not get a 'proper' job.'

'And who else is in this 'band'?' Oscar couldn't help the sarcastic tone that came into his voice; Donny must've noticed it too.

'Their partners,' the boy growled, 'err, Al's girlfriend Natalya, some scary chick from Belarus or something like that, and Mathew's boyfriend Carlos, a tough-lookin' Cuban guy who smokes like a chimney.'

'Oh, so Mathew's…?'

'The one people keep talkin' shit about,' Donny grimaced, 'apparently someone saw them standing outside the ice-cream parlour acting all couply-like and recognised Matt as my brother. Haven't heard the end of it since.'

'Sorry to hear that,' Oscar pulled a face; people liked to mention whenever they saw James with his various dates in the evenings and weekends and, especially if said dates were male, tease him relentlessly. The things people had called his brother… it made him sick to think about it. 'So,' Oscar brushed those thoughts aside, 'which brother would you say you're more like?' Oscar hoped Donny would understand what he was insinuating. He wasn't asking out of romantic interest, just curiosity.

Donny raised an eyebrow, so he got the hint, 'well, neither, really. Don't know. Maybe both. I'll find out sometime…'

'Ah,' Oscar gave a small smile; he glanced around for a new topic of conversation. Spying a small sports centre, an idea formed in his head. 'Hey,' he began, 'remember how I said we should join a boxing club sometime?'

'Yeah?'

'The sports centre has boxing facilities,' Oscar pointed to the shiny building in question, 'and they're pretty cheap to use. What do you say? We could do with some time to blow off some steam.'

'I thought you hated sports,' Donny narrowed his eyes.

'I hate _team_ sports,' Oscar clarified, 'solo ones are fine.'

'I dunno man,' Donny sighed, 'my shoulders and elbows have been hurting lately. And my stomach's a bit dicky too.'

'Oh come off it!' Oscar tucked a curl of hair behind his ear and flashed a charming smile, 'the exercise will do you good!'

'Are you saying I'm fat?' demanded Donny.

'Not at all! Not compared to me, anyway,' Oscar poked at his own stomach, 'but exercise helps your heart and muscles, right?'

'True,' agreed Donny, 'and for the record, someone who looks like you is in no position to say they're fat!'

'I never-'

'I know that's what you were thinking,' Donny waved a finger in Oscar's face, 'so cut the crap. It's bad enough Al worries about his weight so I don't want you starting too.'

'Fine,' Oscar blushed slightly, averting his gaze, 'are you… worried about me?

'Piss off!'

Oscar laughed, shaking his head, 'come on, before it closes or something.' He grabbed Donny's hand and dragged him through the clear, automatic doors towards the reception desk where a young woman sat tapping at a computer.

'Dude,' hissed Donny, 'let go of my hand! She might think we're a couple!' Oscar rolled his eyes, but did as instructed.

The receptionist looked up from her computer when she heard their footsteps, and smiled warmly, 'how may I help you today?' she asked.

Oscar replied with another charming grin, 'two teens for a session of boxing, please.'

'Would you like an instructor?'

'That shan't be necessary.'

'Okay, that'll be twelve pounds for the both of you. Changing rooms are to the left and you have an hour and a half.'

'Thank you,' Oscar nodded and began trotting down the hall, Donny skulking behind. The place smelled like chlorine, and faint splashes could be heard in the distance.

'Don't you think an instructor would be a good idea?' he asked.

'Nope,' Oscar grinned, 'my brother James entered boxing competitions as a child and won a few awards in his time. He taught me everything he knows.'

Donny rolled his eyes, taking his sunglasses off to wipe them on his sleeve, 'yeah? My brother Al entered burger eating competitions as a child; he also won a few awards, but we never figured out how he did so well.'

Oscar's smile took on a strained appearance, '…lovely.'

'So you can box, huh?' Donny looked him up and down sceptically, and Oscar couldn't help but feel self-conscious again.

'That's right,' the pair wandered into the changing rooms mentioned. There were other men and boys in shorts and tracksuits milling about, but not uncomfortably crowded. 'No need to stop here, right?' Oscar asked and Donny nodded.

'I can dump my blazer and tie in the corner or something.'

'Okay,' Oscar pushed past a group of smaller children, probably taking a class, and wandered into the main arena. There were punch bags of all kinds dotted about and a small ring to one side. In one corner was a shelf full of boxing gloves and other equipment, which was where the two boys headed. They picked a pair of gloves each and put them on, playfully testing the things on each other. Donny took off his sunglasses and tucked then into his blazer pocket before taking that off too, along with the dark green tie emblazoned with the school logo.

'So what do you know about boxing?' inquired Oscar, leading Donny over to a spare punch bag.

'It's just hittin' things,' the boy shrugged, 'not that hard dude.'

'On the contrary,' Oscar challenged, 'there's much more to this sport,' he gently pushed Donny in front of him, 'now, first we have to work on your stance. The correct position of your feet is one in front of the other, but not directly in front or you'll lose your balance, this way it'll be hard to knock you over,' he scratched his chin as best he could through the glove, 'now, the best way to determine which foot goes first is to lean forward and whichever foot you use to stop yourself from falling goes first, right foot first then? Good, now back straight, keep your hands in front of your face, no, not _touching_ your face, that's better,' Oscar gave a final nod, 'now, remember to not punch with your knuckles.'

'I fuckin' know,' growled Donny,

'Also,' continued Oscar, 'you have to know the different types of punches. It might be best if we start with the two basic ones.'

'Which are?' Donny wondered if Oscar ever got sick of listening to his own voice.

'The jab, and,' Oscar frowned, 'the other… one, um, the one you use the other hand for,' he paused for a moment, 'anyway, the jab. To do that you use the arm that corresponds to the leg in front. Simple, right? It's a short, quick motion usually followed by the other hand,' Oscar demonstrated on the punch bag, 'now, you use your right hand to bring in this big swing in quick succession, got it?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Donny rolled his eyes, 'can I start now?'

'Be my guest,'

Donny aimed a series of swipes at the target. Messy and uncoordinated, he soon ran out of breath.

'You have a lot of strength,' commented Oscar, 'but no aim. Calm down a bit.'

'Sorry,' Donny sighed, 'I thought it would be a good idea to get angry and pissed off, like it would give me more strength or something, and I thought about something someone said about my brothers and lost it.'

Oscar chuckled, 'remind me never to badmouth your family, not that I'd ever-'

'I know,' Donny grinned, 'you try, lets see if you're as professional as you think you are.'

'It would be my _pleasure_,' replied Oscar smugly, taking on the correct posture, left foot first for him, and letting out a sequence of rapid, delicate punches. He swung his right arm around, landing a blow on the side of the punch bag.

'Okay, I'm impressed,' Donny begrudgingly admitted.

'Here, how about I hold the punch bag steady for you, so it won't be swinging everywhere?' offered Oscar.

'Cheers,' Donny threw a few more punches whilst Oscar held the bag steady, then suddenly hissed in pain, clutching his shoulder.

'What's wrong?' gasped Oscar.

'Nothing,' replied Donny, through gritted teeth, 'using muscles I haven't used before, right? Don't worry.'

'Sure you sure?' Oscar looked at his friend in concern, 'if you want a break-'

'I said I'm fine!' Donny aimed another punch at the target.

'If you say so…' Oscar shook his head, 'so stubborn.'

'Such a shame you can't see which finger I'm holding up,' Donny shot back, 'now shut up and hold the bag still.'

…

Their session ended too quickly for the pair's liking, despite the fact that they were tired, out of breath and red-faced. Ambling into the changing room Oscar made straight for the sinks, washing his face and washing the mud from the attack off his arms and shoulders.

'I haven't had that much fun in ages,' he gasped, wiping his face with paper towels.

'Yeah,' Donny gave a small smile, 'you're alright, I guess.'

'Thank you,' Oscar smiled, 'same to you. We should do this again sometime, as a stress relief.'

'That's be… okay,' Donny shrugged, 'it might be nice to take a few hours off from studying and homework and exams and motherfuckers every week.'

'It's a date then!'

'Eh?' Donny raised an eyebrow.

'I meant that in a friendship way,' Oscar shook his head, 'honestly.'

'Oh,' Donny's face contorted in pain and he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

'What's wrong?' Oscar rested a hand on his friend's back.

'Nuffin,' Donny grunted, 'my stomach does that sometimes. Relax!'

'You should see a doctor about that,' Oscar warned, 'it could be serious.'

'Nah,' scoffed Donny, 'if it was serious I'd be dead or something.'

'What utter-'

'I'm fine!' Donny shot him a warning glare, and Oscar dropped the subject. Exiting the changing rooms, the pair wandered along the corridor and Oscar peered through glass walls at the tennis courts, swimming pool and other facilities whilst Donny lagged behind, shoulders hunched and hands still on his stomach.

Once outside, the American seemed to calm down.

'So what now?' he asked.

'Well, it's five-thirty,' began Oscar, 'and it'll take a while to get home. We should probably face the music. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling pretty calm now.'

'Nah, I think I'll head into ton for a bit,' Donny began walking in the opposite direction, 'see ya tomorrow then!'

'Yeah, see you…'

…

Oscar opened the front door as quietly as he could, poking his head in to peer at the dimly-lit hall. Everything was calm and silent, except for the faint buzz of the telly coming from the sitting room. Oscar wondered if he could just sneak upstairs and avoid Jett altogether, and stepped inside, slipping his shoes off and shutting the door.

Coast still clear, Oscar tiptoed over to the stairs, giving one final glance around the room before deciding he was safe from his brother's anger.

Or so he thought.

'Finally dragged your sorry butt here, huh?' Jett growled, grabbing his little brother by the back of his polo shirt so the boy couldn't escape, 'fighting in school? _Fighting_? What the fuck's gotten into you?'

'I didn't do anything!' Oscar cried, 'calm down!'

'I _was_ calm,' Jett shouted, 'when I got the call from your head in the middle of work, I was all prepared to sit down and listen then I come home and find Charlie's using the stove by herself because you weren't home to cook her dinner!'

'I was out!' Oscar tried to wiggle free, but Jett refused to let him go, 'with a friend! I was avoiding coming home because I knew you'd be like this! Sorry I'm such a disappointment problem child!'

Jett paused for a moment, blinking in shock. Using the momentary lapse in concentration, Oscar pulled his shirt out of his brother's grasp, throwing his brother a dirty look.

'I'm… not that bad, you know?' Jett murmured, 'I'm just worried 'bout ya, kid.'

'I know,' Oscar sighed and dusted himself down.

'Fine,' Jett shrugged, 'sit down and tell me what happened.' He slung his arm around his brother's shoulders and led him into the sitting room. Sprawled out on the sofa, Jett listened to Oscar's side of the story, becoming increasing horrified as he heard more and more.

'Those little shits have been expelled, right?' he finally asked.

'Nope,' Oscar shook his head.

'Detention for the rest of the year?'

'Nuh-uh.'

'Well what then?' cried Jett, 'their parents were told at least?'

'Don't think so,' Oscar picked up a cushion, hugging it and rocking back and forth.

'Well why the fuck not?' Jett shot up, pacing the room and running his hands through his hair.

'Dunno,' Oscar replied, shrugging, 'nothing we can do about it though.'

'Fuck off!' exclaimed Jett, 'they'll hear about this! You have parents' evening this week, right?'

Oscar nodded miserably, 'please don't cause a scene.'

'I will! No one treats my baby brother like shit and gets away with it!'

…

It seems I can only make chapters either pathetically short or butt-numbingly long. Still, thank you to everyone who's left feedback so far! I appreciate it immensely!

Human names-

Aleks- Norway

Emil- Iceland

Mathias- Denmark

Stelios- Cyprus

Alin- Romania

Andre- Moldova

Tsvetan- Bulgaria


	11. Responsibility

'Hey sheep,' Hunapo's eyes twitched in irritation as they looked up and found Jett grinning at them.

'What?' they asked, turning their attention back to the cloth in their hand, being used to wipe mud off their legs. At least, they hoped it was mud. Never could quite tell here.

'Nuffin,' Jett wandered over to the large fridge where they kept animal food and opened the door, throwing a leg of meat into a bucket, 'cheetah has worms, by the way.'

Hunapo groaned, 'guess that means we'll be checking all the animals, right?'

'Yup,' Jett grimaced, 'bloody hate collecting samples. Say, know where the tablets are?'

'For worms?' Hunapo threw the cloth into a bucket of water and stood up, 'yeah they're in the cabinet,' they wandered over to said cabinet and picked out the correct medicine, passing them to Jett.

'Cheers. So what happened to you, little sheep?' asked Jett absent-mindedly as he stuffed tiny pills into what was apparently the cheetah's dinner.

'Slipped and fell when I was cleaning the elephant enclosure,' replied Hunapo, 'and for the last time, don't call me sheep!'

'Fine,' Jett rolled his eyes, 'so how have you been, Sceapige?'

'Sceapige?' Hunapo raised an eyebrow.

'It's old English for sheep,' explained Jett smugly.

'You seriously took the time to google that?' Hunapo shook their head, 'what's wrong, porn took too long to download?'

'Oy!' growled Jett, 'shut it you little shit.'

'I'll take that as a yes,' Hunapo chuckled and wandered back to the crate they'd been sitting on and began cleaning their legs again.

'Need help, mouton? Defaid? Schapen?'

'French, Welsh and Dutch, right?' Hunapo shook there head, 'and I'm fine, thank you.'

'You sure?' Jett looked at them in concern, 'might be quicker if I do it.'

'Please Jimmy,' Hunapo rolled their eyes; 'I am not a child and can take care of myself.'

'Never said you couldn't,' Jett shrugged, 'just thought you could do with a helping hand.'

'No,' Hunapo cleaned the cloth in the water and continued, 'wouldn't mind some company though. Take a seat.'

'Great,' Jett set the bucket down and took a seat on a crate.

'So what happened to your face then, if you don't mind my asking?'

'What about my face?'

'The bandage,'

'Oh,' Jett shrugged, 'trying to flatten out my nose a bit.'

'Why? You have a very nice nose.'

'Thanks but… ah, it's nothing.'

'Can't be nothing,' Hunapo pressed, 'come on; I won't judge.'

'It's the same shape as my dad's,' explained Jett, 'and I don't like that. I look a lot like him, though. He was a bit of a pig.'

'You shouldn't be ashamed of what you look like,' Hunapo reminded him, 'but if it bothers you that much, then focus on what you have in common with your mother. You must have something in common with her, right?'

Jett thought for a moment before replying, 'we're both really protective of people we care about.'

…

Oscar clenched and unclenched his hands, staring at the computer in front of him. It was Tuesday now, and the website was up and running, as he was informed by Lars earlier at school, who gave him the log-in details and instructions.

Typing in the URL, he found himself staring at a stylish, but relatively blank webpage. There were links to Childline, the NHS website and a few others, as well as a FAQ page and pages describing different mental disorders, alcoholism and advice on bullying and sexual orientation. All in all, Oscar was impressed; Lars had really outdone himself on this. Oscar couldn't help but wonder if this was the kid's first real chance of showing off his talent, and made a mental note to congratulate him the next day.

Speaking of congratulations, he felt his sister and the young Austrian boy- what was his name again?- needed credit too. Oscar had noticed several posters dotted about the corridors, classrooms and notice boards advertising the site. When did they even have time to make those? It all made him feel a bit inadequate.

Still, he had a job to do, no matter how small it seemed in comparison and clicked on the log-in button at the top of the page. Two buttons appeared: 'student' and 'admin' and Oscar clicked on the 'admin' one and filled in his details which returned him to the home page, except this one had a little message box with (5) next to it.

_Five messages already? Wow_. Oscar clapped his hands in glee and clicked on the box. Sure, he couldn't make design websites or draw posters, but he could give some damn good advice.

The first message was a simple introduction from Lars, explaining the workings of the site and asking for a confirmation of their log in and Oscar quickly replied before moving on to the next message.

_I want to trace my father. Could you suggest a good marker pen?- trollmaster69_

Oscar groaned. Did people think this website was a joke? He looked to see if anyone else had replied and, sure enough, there were a few.

Donald: _Don't be a little penis!_

Franz: _Try a sharpie_

Charlotte: _Don't cover your father in sharpie; that's dangerous. Also, please don't treat this like a joke._

Lars: _Do you want to get banned?_

Oscar shook his head, approved the message and moved onto the next one.

_Dear bitch, I have trouble making friends. What are you going to do about it?- 12345_

Oscar couldn't tell if it was genuine or not, but decided to treat it as if it was. He checked the other messages before figuring out what he could say.

Nobuyuki: _Maybe other's find your language and rudeness offensive. Try speaking more politely and people will warm up to you._

Peter: _Nobu's right. Maybe walking around with a nice smile will make you seem more approachable._

Salvatorio: _Compliment people! They love hearing positive things about themselves._

Donny: _Guys… they're quoting mock the week. It's not a real problem. Gullible little shits._

Oscar groaned. Of course… he guessed several people had thought it would be a laugh to send in jokes. He wondered if there was any point in continuing. Still, there were two asked left; surely at least one would be a genuine problem.

_My voice is breaking and there's hair on my chest. I am a nine year old girl.- johnms_

_Oh for the love of_- Oscar cried out in frustration. Did anyone take their site seriously? Here he was wasting his evening… then again, Lars was probably even more upset than he was. Oscar clicked on the final message.

_There's a boy in my class that I like but I'm too scared to talk to him. What should I do?- missedelweiss_

Ah, Oscar grinned, finally an actual question. He looked at the other responses to confirm it was real and to see what advice they gave.

Peter: _Be his friend! Get to know each other a bit. _

Charlotte: _Do you have common interests? Maybe you can find something to talk about._

Donny: _Blow jobs usually work. Joking! (Don't do that) Errm, I'm sure he's not that bad to talk to. Or ask his mates who he likes._

Kuzey: _Can we roll back the inappropriate jokes? Missedelweiss, having a crush is hard. Maybe your feelings will go away, maybe they won't. Either way, he's probably really nice if you talk to him. Follow the others' advice (ignore Donald) and who knows? Things might work out._

Oscar wondered what he could add. He'd yet to contribute and was feeling a bit unneeded. What would he do in regards to romantic feelings? Probably cry on his bedroom floor listening to music, but that wasn't really advisable. Thinking hard, he finally began to type.

Oscar: _you are probably a wonderful young woman and any fellow would be lucky to have you. Believe in yourself. You are worthy of him! If he rejects you, then that is his loss._

He gave one final nod before pressing send, then logged off.

'Oh good,' said Charlotte from behind him, 'you're off. I wanna use the computer!'

'You've already had your turn,' Oscar informed her, turning around in the swivel chair and stretching.

'Yes and I want another go,' Charlotte pouted, 'please it's important!'

'Fine,' Oscar sighed and stood up, 'you can go on while I cook you dinner.'

'Cheers,' Charlotte had occupied his empty seat almost immediately, 'and I'd like pie and chips tonight.'

'Course,'

…

'Hey, your dinner's getting cold!' Oscar warned, peering over Charlotte's shoulder at her computer screen. She was on her facebook, apparently, (despite how many times he'd protested to James about her being on there at a young age) and using the search bar. The name she was typing seemed familiar, but before he had time to process it his sister's hands covered the screen.

'Oy! Who told you it was okay to look?' Charlotte growled, glaring at him.

'Not talking to people you shouldn't be, are you?' Oscar raised an eyebrow.

'N-no,'

'What are you doing?'

'Nuffin,'

'Shall I tell James you're hiding something?' Oscar threatened. Charlotte thought for a moment, glancing around nervously.

'If,' she began, 'if I tell you what I'm doing, you have to promise not to tell Jett. Ever.'

'Err, fine, I guess, I won't tell James,' Oscar felt apprehensive at the thought. What was Charlotte possibly doing?

'Swear on your life!'

'I swear.'

Charlotte removed her hands and Oscar could see the name in the search bar clearly: _Jacob Cook_. Oscar's eyes widened and he stared at his sister in disbelief.

'You're… trying to find dad on facebook?' he whispered.

Charlotte nodded miserably, 'I know you and Jett keep telling me all the bad stuff he did but… he's my dad! And I don't remember him at all. I thought I could get in contact with him and talk for a bit. That's all.'

'Please Charlotte,' Oscar sighed, 'that man wouldn't care if any of us dropped down dead! He abandoned us in a foreign country!'

'Maybe he's changed,' suggested Charlotte, ' I'm just looking, okay? Please let me do this!'

'I can't,' Oscar shook his head, 'I won't allow it. That man is evil!'

'You said you didn't believe in evil people,' Charlotte pointed out, 'and even if he is, I have to find out for myself,' Oscar didn't reply, 'please don't tell Jett.'

'How can I? It'd break his heart!' Charlotte looked like she'd been slapped, and Oscar looked away, lip quivering, 'fine,' he said eventually, 'but if you find anything, please tell me.'

'Sure thing,'

Just then, they heard the key turn in the front door, signalling Jett's arrival. Charlotte quickly logged out and hurried off to eat her dinner.

'Hey what's up little man?' Jett grinned at his brother as he entered the room.

'Not much,' Oscar shrugged, falling into the swivel chair to stop him falling over from shaking. He was still in denial about what Charlotte had done and too ashamed to look at his brother, 'p-pie and chips on the table for you.'

'Ah cheers,' Jett grinned, 'I'm absolutely starving,' he paused for a moment, 'you okay?'

'Yeah,' Oscar nodded weakly, 'just feeling a bit ill.'

'Oh not you too,' Jett groaned, 'it's bad enough a flaming cheetah's got worms without you coming down with something.'

'It's probably nothing,' Oscar assured him.

'We'll see,' Jett grunted, sitting down at the table opposite Charlotte, 'you eaten?'

'Just finished,' Oscar lied. Charlotte shot him a glare for it, but he knew she couldn't say anything.

Not without him telling on her too.

…

So yeah took a short break to finish other stories, but then I kinda started missing this one. Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter.

Oh, and all the joke messages were taken from mock the week; I do not own them in any way, shape or form.

And I bet you can't guess who missedelweiss is.


	12. Parent's evening

'For the last time Ozzie,' Jett growled, 'I am bringing this up whether you like it or not,' he ran a hand through his hair and groaned, glaring at Oscar, green eyes narrowing, 'if we don't sort it out now then you'll just keep having problems.'

'And I can solve those problems by myself,' Oscar stressed, 'you'll only cause a scene if you bring it up.' He and Jett were walking side by side on their way to school, Charlotte just in front of them. It was five thirty in the evening now, and starting to get dark.

'No,' Jett insisted, 'this shit needs to stop. It's your school too! You should feel safe!'

'I _do_ feel safe,' Oscar replied, 'it was a one time thing and I probably provoked them. Just let it go!'

'I dunno,' Jett looked at him uneasily, 'are you sure?'

'Positive,'

'Then…' Jett sighed, raising his hands, 'fine. I won't mention it, but you have to promise you won't stop me if something like this happens again!'

'I promise,' Oscar assured him, but at Jett's sceptical expression, added, 'cross my heart and hope to die.'

'Good,' Jett raised an eyebrow, regarding his brother with amusement, 'so, am I gonna hear good news again? Nothing you want to warn me about?'

'My record is spotless,' Oscar assured him, 'well, better than most,' he added.

'That's my boy, and you, Charlie?'

'So so,' Charlotte waved a hand.

…

'So far he's had eight missing home works,' the maths teacher read from the report, adjusting their glasses, 'five times he was late to lesson and ten cases of missing equipment.'

Mathew and Alfred sighed, glancing despairingly at Donny, who just glared at the ground. After five similar stories from other subject teachers, the brothers were getting pretty sick of how awful a student the youngest Jones was.

'He's smart,' the teacher added, 'but he needs to stay focused. He's capable of doing the work when he tries.'

'I'll try harder,' Donny told them, 'just got a lot of things going on right now.'

'Would you care to tell us what they are?'

'No,' Donny turned away.

'Well, we'll make sure he gets the work done in future,' Mathew assured them, as he and Alfred stood to move onto the next teacher. Once they'd left the maths classroom, Alfred turned on his brother.

'For Christ's sake Donald,' he groaned, 'is there any good news? Why do you keep doing this to us? We moved here to get a fresh start, but all your parents' evenings are the same! Year after year of the same crap!'

'I don't fucking like it any more than you do!' snapped Donny, 'you think it's easy listening to all my failures?'

'Why don't you try harder than?' Alfred waved his arms in the air wildly.

'So much work,' Donny mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, 'it takes up too much of my time and I don't understand it all.'

'Well, I'll have to watch over you when you do your homework!'

Mathew put a hand on his twin's shoulder, pulling him to one side, 'hey,' he hissed, 'lay off him, kay? Can't you see he's already upset.' He nodded at Donny, who was holding his stomach and fighting back tears through his glasses, thinking no one could see him.

'Fine,' Alfred sighed, 'but what are we going to do with him?'

'Support him, that's the best option.'

'Okay,' Alfred gave a determined nod, 'hey, lil bro, you okay?'

'Fine,' grunted Donny, removing his hands and leaning against the wall.

'What's wrong?' Mathew put a hand on his shoulder, which Donny shrugged off.

'Nuffin,'

'So what's next then?' Alfred asked, trying to change the conversation.

'Business studies,'

'Oh joy,' Alfred mumbled, following his brothers.

…

'Well,' Miss Hedervary rifled through her notes before glancing over at the pair, 'Franz is a very lively child and I love having him in my class,' she smiled warmly, and Franz grinned back.

'And the actual work?' Roderich pressed.

'Hmm, he gets on with the tasks I set him and hands in most of his homework,' explained Miss Hedervary, 'behaviour-wise, he sometimes gets distracted by the displays on the wall, the view outside the window and his friend, Lars, but on the whole, nothing too serious.'

'Would moving him away from his friend help his behaviour?' asked Roderich.

'Nope, they help each other with the work and get along well. I fear separating them will just cause unnecessary hassle,' Franz sighed in relief at that; Lars was the only one who was polite to him in geography lessons.

'If you say so,' Roderich shrugged, 'anything else?'

'Not that I can think of,' replied Miss Hedervary, 'maybe I could fill you in on the syllabus? So you know what your son will be doing in the coming months.'

'I'd appreciate that,' Roderich gave a nod, 'Franz never tells me anything about his school life.'

'I've tried to tell you but you've never been interested in my school life!' Franz butted in, glaring at his father.

'Not now,' Roderich snapped, 'we'll talk later.'

'Fine,' Franz mumbled, staring at the floor.

'Well,' Miss Hedervary coughed, 'right now we're studying heritage and getting the kids to explore their nationality. Franz tells me he's Austrian so his task will be to find out more about Austria's history and culture. I'm sure you'll be able to help him with that.'

'Of course I'll help,' Roderich gave a small smile, 'it might be fun to learn more about the country together.'

'Well after that we move onto rivers and their journey from source to delta,' continued Miss Hedervary, 'then the rock cycle, which takes us up to Christmas.'

'I see,'

'And that's about it,' Miss Hedervary shrugged, 'it was nice talking to you sir.'

'Please, call me Roderich,' Roderich extended a hand, 'I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other in the future.'

'We will?' Miss Hedervary arched an eyebrow.

'I meant at future parent's evenings,' Roderich looked away, cheeks turning slightly pink.

'Of course,' Mrs Hedervary shook his hand, 'I know it's unprofessional, but please refer to me as Elizabeta, if you like.'

'Thank you, Elizabeta,' Roderich nodded and left the classroom with Franz.

'Peter and Lars' mummies made traditional Swedish and Finnish food for the class a few weeks ago,' Franz commented as they walked down the corridor, 'can we make food from Austria for the class sometime?'

'I'll check my recipe books,' Roderich assured him before sighing, 'but you're right about what you said earlier, and I'm sorry I snapped at you. There definitely needs to be more communication between us.'

'Told you,' Franz grinned, 'how about every day we spend half an hour talking about each other's days when I get home from school?'

'Sounds like a good plan,' Roderich ruffled his son's hair, 'we could also do our work together too.'

'Yes please!'

…

'So all in all,' Mr Fernandez Carriedo concluded, 'Charlotte is a model student and a real asset to my class,' he placed another leaver arch on the desk in front of him whilst Jett gave his sister a thumbs-up, 'now, Oscar…' he flicked through the reports for Oscar's class, quickly finding the boy's name. 'Ah, here we go,' the science teacher scanned through the report, 'yes; all seems to be in order. Oscar's not had one missing homework yet and his attendance is good. A little talkative though,' he raised an eyebrow at Oscar, waggling a finger in his direction, 'you, Vargas and Jones don't seem to know how to shut up, but it doesn't distract you from your work too much, so I'm not fussed.'

'Nice to see him having fun,' Jett shrugged, slouched in a plastic chair in between his younger siblings in the science classroom.

'And learning's all about fun!' Mr Fernandez Carriedo grinned, 'he's a bit squeamish when doing experiments though, but not dissections, apparently. He's scarily adept at those.'

'I work at a zoo so animals are hardly gonna frighten him,' explained Jett.

'I see, sounds like a good job.'

'It has it's moments…' and they were off, talking about Jett's job. Oscar didn't mind though, if it meant they were done discussing his education. This was the last subject and, overall, they'd heard good news, partly because Oscar had 'forgotten' to book an appointment with his PE teacher. And even then, it was only team sports he was bad at; surprisingly for anyone who knew, Oscar was a sports enthusiast, it was just hard enjoying the subject when the rest of the class hated him...

'-There was this one time I gave a cheetah the wrong tranquiliser dosage,' Jett told the science teacher, 'and he woke up a bit early whilst I was setting up its dinner.'

'Not the cheetah story again,' he mumbled.

'Damn near got me! Scratched my leg before I got up a tree! Had to get one of the other keepers to shoot it again.'

'No way, for real?' Mr Fernandez Carriedo stared at him in awe.

'All true,' Jett nodded.

'Hey, if you're an animal expert, then would you mind taking a look at one of the turtles,' Mr Fernandez Carriedo indicated to the tank in the back of the room, 'Lovi junior's been looking a little poorly lately.'

'I'll check it out,' Jett got up and followed the teacher to the tank.

'He named a turtle after Sal's brother?' Charlotte raised a bushy eyebrow.

'I believe it was named after his fiancé,' Oscar corrected.

'Same person…'

Oscar sighed, 'why are they talking about random crap now? Tonight's _my_ night.'

'Mine too,' Charlotte added.

'Course, but still, I should be the centre of attention!'

'You're always the damn centre of attention!'

…

'Well, I'm very impressed,' Sadik ruffled his son's hair as they left the school, crossing the playground to get to the front gate, 'it's nice to see you're settling in so well.'

'Thanks baba,' Kuzey smiled back, 'so can we go to the theme park sometime?'

'I feel you've earned it,' Sadik nodded, thinking for a moment, 'you can even invite a few friends, if you like.'

'Wow thank you,' Kuzey hugged Sadik before spying Charlotte with her brothers. He contemplated going over and saying 'hi', but decided against it. She was probably busy and Sadik would only say something to embarrass him anyway.

'That your girlfriend?' Sadik followed his son's gaze, pointing at Charlotte. Yeah, there was no way Kuzey could let Sadik anywhere near her.

'She's my friend,' Kuzey corrected, feeling his face turn red.

'Right, course,' Sadik grinned, winking, 'we have to wait for Heracles and Stelios to finish going round to Steli's teachers- lazy bastards are always late- so you can go talk to her if ya like.'

'I guess,' Kuzey sighed and began walking over.

'Hey Kuz,' Charlotte nodded a greeting, 'good evening?'

'Pretty good, yeah, a-and you?' Kuzey avoided her gaze.

'Could be worse,'

'Who are you?' demanded Jett, glaring at Kuzey suspiciously.

Oscar watched in amusement as the boy nervously tried to introduce himself, clearly intimidated by Jett. It was terrible to admit, but he found it satisfying, especially because he never liked how close the boy was to his sister. Glancing around, he spied Donny, skulking after his brothers.

'Hey!' he called, 'how was your parents' evening?'

'Shit!' Donny called back, grinning, though his smile was wiped off with a glare from Alfred.

'Who was _that_?' Jett rounded on his brother, 'is he the kid giving you trouble?'

'What? No! He's a friend!'

Jett glanced at Donny again, 'he looks like the kind of kid who'd mug you in an alley.'

'So do you,' Oscar commented.

'Rude,' Jett rolled his eyes before introducing himself to Sadik whilst Kuzey and Charlotte discussed homework or lessons or whatever twelve year olds talked about. Feeling somewhat left out, Oscar stared at Donny as he left the playground, wondering if the other boy would be annoyed by him running over and having a chat. Oscar knew Donny disliked him, and didn't want to irritate him further, so settled for gazing from a distance whilst his family talked. Donny's brothers looked like they wanted to have words with him anyway…

…

'So did I do good?' Nobuyuki gazed hopefully up at his mother, holding tightly onto her hand as they walked down the street.

'Apparently,' the woman replied, 'your effort is satisfactory, as is your homework, but I wish you supplemented your schoolwork with extra-curricular activities more.'

'I go to science club,' Nobuyuki pointed out.

'That all?' his father, walking on the other side of him, raised an eyebrow, 'when Kiku was your age he was in three after-school clubs, four lunchtime ones and volunteered at the library.'

'I'll look into more clubs and ask about working at the library,' Nobuyuki sighed; of course, everything was about Kiku with his parents, 'maybe I could take up a sport too,' Kiku had never joined any school sports teams, though he did go to Judo and Kendo classes on weekends for a few years.

'That's my boy,' Mr Honda smiled, patting his son's head.

'Sure,' Nobuyuki gave a humourless chuckle; when would he ever be good enough?

…

**I'm so sorry for the delay in updates, but I seriously could not be fucked writing this chapter. I want to write the rest, but not this chapter. So yeah, I finally got all the little events for this mapped out in a plan and holy shit this is gonna be a long fic… not that I mind.**


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